The Babysitter
by Doxi.Tereo
Summary: We all know that the Winchester boys grew up to be badasses, but what were they like when they were all tiny and cute? Story follows an OC as the Winchester's babysitter in an AU. We got WeeChesters, we got Bobby, we got John, and maybe some of the Harvelles!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

**Danica**

A place to sleep. A place to sleep, and maybe some nosh. That was what Danica needed, and nothing more. She wasn't looking for a place to _stay_. She wasn't looking for a _warm_ _meal_ or a job or a family or a future when she knocked on Bobby Singer's door- the last door out of twelve she had knocked on since it started raining in the town of Sioux Falls an hour ago. This old house, in the middle of a junkyard, in the middle of nowhere, was her last ditch effort to get out of the wet and the cold.

She didn't have high hopes. Sioux Falls had not been the friendly down-home bonfire she'd been expecting. Small town, you'd think people would be less rude. It's not like she was some hairy, grope-y vagabond with intent to steal heirlooms, spare change and virtue. Granted everyone looks like a creepy axe murderer in the rain, but if they'd just let her in they'd see that she was decent enough.

A few moments after she'd knocked on the door of the Singer residence, Danica was ready to give up. She'd had enough scraping her shoes on unwelcoming welcome mats while these rural chuckleheads judged her though their peep holes. She turned and examined the abandoned cars rather morosely. She could go without a meal, sure, but shelter is shelter and there are worse places to sleep than in a crappy old ford.

But just as she'd turned away from the house and toward the nearest vehicle a gruff, tired voice came through the door.

"What do you want?"

Trying not to get too excited, Danica turned back to the door, trying to find the peep hole in it so she could smile some sort of innocent-girl-in-need-of-help smile right into the guy's susceptible eyeball, and said, "I'm looking for a place to sleep. I'm not crazy. And I'm not homeless. I'm drifting and it's raining and I'm kind of without transport at the moment, so if you have a spare room or a lone mattress or an especially comfortable rug you don't mind letting me borrow for the night, I'd appreciate it greatly."

There was silence for a second, leading Danica to think about all the things going through her potential savior's head, like 'Who prefaces a request with 'I'm not crazy' except for crazy people?' and 'Is there even a difference between being homeless and drifting?'

So, stupidly, she blurted "I'm really, really not crazy. And really, really not homeless. I'm also a quiet sleeper and I can make a gourmet meal out of anything."

She imagined she could hear disbelief from the other side of the door.

"Anything. Spaghetti-o's and meatloaf can make superb lasagna if you know how to cook them."

The door opened and Danica jumped before she took a long look at the forlorn man standing before her.

Tall in stature, rotund in form, and shaggy of face was he. Somewhere in his mid thirties but not well kempt. His grooming left a lot to be desired, but he seemed approachable enough. Like chops-his-own-wood-and-eats-what-he-kills kind of approachable. Clearly lacking in manners, starting with wearing a trucker cap indoors. And his grief was oozing from his pores so heavily she could practically see the edges of it, like hot asphalt in the summer.

"You can make a meal outta what I got, you got yourself dinner and a place to sleep." He mumbled in a steep Midwestern accent.

That seemed like the closest thing to a welcome she was like to get, so she crossed the threshold and pulled down the hood of her jacket, extending a hand. "Danica."

"Robert Singer." His handshake was quick and sharp. "Kitchen's this way."

She followed him into his kitchen and was hard pressed not to gape in shock at the mess. It looked like Sasquatch and Bigfoot had taken up domestic activities in this man's poor, unfortunate home, and decided just to not clean up after themselves. Danica tried to be as subtle as she could looking around the kitchen for cans of food, or jars, or boxes or something edible, but her host saw her face.

"It's a helluva mess, but there's something to eat in here somewhere." He said. "I've never been much for keepin' organized."

Danica shrugged, "As long as you don't mind me poking through the refuge, I don't mind doing the poking."

She was rewarded with a sound of approval, and the big man went to the fridge. He took a beer from one shelf, a bottle of water from another, and handed the bottle to her. She thanked him, and he went to sit at the surprisingly clear kitchen table.

She twisted the top from the bottle and took a long drink. It gave a slight burn in the back of her throat, like orange juice when you have a cold, and for a second she worried there was something in it. But when she looked at Robert he was staring off into space, almost as though he'd already forgotten she was there.

So Danica foraged, managing to find more than she'd hoped to when initially issued the challenge- there were few enough canned and boxed goods, but there was also a seemingly untouched shelf of herbs and spices in one corner of the kitchen. She gathered her supplies and water in hand and awkwardly made her way to the kitchen counter, clearing a space for her work. She checked the stove (it worked, thank goodness) and looked for the pots and pans.

"You have a very nice, um, junkyard, out there." She said, trying to make pleasant conversation. "Very… full of cars."

Behind her, Robert snorted again. "Yeah. It's a right old beautiful stretch of metal-covered dirt."

"Hey, if cars are what you like, and cars are what you do, you're one of the lucky few who doesn't have to be miserable about work, right?" she shrugged, pouring the strange mix of canned pasta, soup, and herbs into a pot and setting it over the stovetop. "Gas or electric?"

He looked at her like she was insane, and she looked down at the stove.

"Oh. Right. Obviously." She said nervously, turning the dial. "Sometimes, this old brain gets away from me."

"'This old brain'?" he took a swig from his beer and gave her another condescending look. "Younger than mine by decades, I'll bet."

"Naaah, not unless you're much, much older than you look. Goodness knows I am." She rolled her eyes and poked her head into the fridge. "Ah, yes. Good. Butter."

"You be easy with that, it's my last stick and I don't like shoppin'."

"Really? I couldn't tell." She said.

If there was anything to be said for the bitingly sarcastic, it's that they fall into easy familiarity with each other. Feelings rarely get hurt, everything is fair game, and nothing says "I appreciate you graciously letting me into your home," quite like rapping your host's hand with a wooden spoon when he reaches to try the tomato soup before it's been served.

Minutes later, they sat across from each other at the table, each with a large bowl of soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. She served herself only one, and served him two, since he was the host and he was so much larger than she was.

"Do you say prayers or anything before you eat?" she asked tactfully, placing her napkin in her lap.

"What'd be the point?"

"Fair enough."

They ate wordlessly for a while; Danica had learned long ago that you can tell when a man is really enjoying a meal, because he doesn't stop to tell you how good it is. So she took his silence as a compliment and finished her food long before he did.

"So," she asked, when his mouth was full of sandwich and not of soup to avoid any unfortunate spitting. "What's with the bottle of holy water?"

Robert choked a little on his bite, and she sprung up in case he needed her help. He was big, but she was fairly sure she could get her arms around him for a Heimlich. He didn't seem to have rescue in mind, though, and had her pinned up against the nearest wall with silver knife to her throat,in no time flat. She let him trap her, knowing full well that if she needed to, she could easily get herself out of his grasp and out the door before he had a chance to say "hob-noggin".

"Who are you and how did you know-" Robert hissed.

"About the holy water? It has a distinct taste. Like prayer beads and Latin." The knife pressed harder against her throat she found herself speaking faster, just as a result of the knife at her neck. "That was a joke. You can't taste Latin. It was your books in the entry way, and your very poorly concealed weapons collection in the foyer, and the fact that you made sure to touch my skin with the silver ring on your left hand before you handed me the bottle. Little things Hunters do that you pick up on over the years. I'm guessing you're pretty new, though? You would have walked me through a Devil's Trap if you had more experience. Also can you take the knife away from my neck a little, nothing makes you ramble like a sharp objet pressed to your major arteries."

Robert lowered the knife a fraction.

"Thanks. You can cut me with it, if you like. Just, somewhere I don't need, like my upper arm or something. Not the fingers. NO! Not the thumb, I hitchhike with that thumb, thank you. Ouch. Pleased?"

Robert Singer seemed far from pleased, but he released her and took a step back while Danica examined the shallow cut on the back of her hand.

"So what are you then?" He asked.

"Something supernatural, far beyond your capacity to comprehend. I'm not evil, though. I don't eat or possess people. So I think that puts me in the realm of things you morally are not obligated to kill, if you could. I mean, I've never encountered anything that could kill me, but I'm sure if you thought about it you could figure something out. I'm a guest in your house, Mister Singer. I won't harm you any more than you harm me." Faster than Robert's eyes could follow, the knife was in her hand and there was a stinging red line on his arm. "Fair is fair. We're even now, and if you'd like for me to go without any more fuss, I will. But that place to sleep would still be mightily appreciated."

He looked in disbelief at his arm, then at the knife. "How did you do that?"

"Years and years of martial arts training."

"And that thing that you said, about the demon trap…"

"Theres a book, the Key of Solomon, it has the design for the Devils Trap in it. I've only seen it in use, but boy does it work."

"D'you know where it is?"

"No, but you could probably find out if you looked hard enough. There are probably wards and things in there to. A pretty useful book, on the whole, if you're looking to expand your collection. Though," Danica looked at the stack of books in the foyer that was so clearly about to fall over, "You might want to organize what you have, first."

They were both silent for a moment, during which Danica looked at Robert, and Robert looked at the knife in her hand.

"How do I know you're tellin' the truth about not killin' me in my sleep?" he asked.

"You don't," she said, and handed him the knife, hilt first.

More silence. Then, "I have a proposal for you."

Danica looked at the broken man before her with new intensity. Charity is all well and good, but a proposal meant terms. Long terms. Danica was famously not a fan of long terms.

"Fer every good book you can get me, or any day you can help me get this place tidied up, or every martial arts move you help me master, you have a night under my roof. There's a spare bedroom upstairs, and," he coughed, looking nervous. "When yer ready to go or I get sick of yeh, you can take any one of the workin' junkers out there and ride off into the sunset. Deal?"

She thought about it for a moment. The situation was a sticky one. She had been invited into this man's house, she had been held at knifepoint, implied to be a monster, and yet now he was asking her if she wanted to stay and be his maid-_slash_-kung-fu master-_slash_-librarian?

"I can't have a clear conscience lettin' a young thing like you wander around all homeless in this town. People 'round here can be mean, and there's some scary things down in them woods."

She knew about scary things that hide in the dark very well. They were the things out there searching for her, and while they seemed to find easily enough when she was on her own , when she was staying with a hunter they were fewer and farer between. _She_ might see Robert Singer as green, but they might not. This could be her safe haven… for a while, anyway. And the promise of a car? No more busses or hitchhiking? That would be the true light at the end of the tunnel.

"You, Mister Robert Singer, have a deal."

"Call me Bobby."

They shook on it.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**Dani**

Danica slept soundly on a mattress in the guest bedroom on the second floor of the house. Thankfully there was a lock on the door, so she could rest easy. It wasn't like her to spring into a deal like this one so easily, but something about Bobby Singer had told her he was harmless when he meant to be. And still kind of harmless when he didn't.

A preliminary search of the room's contents left her with a bed, a nightstand, a lamp, a sewing machine, and a case of drawers which held some old clothes for a woman slightly taller than herself, and a copy of the bible. The clothes she folded neatly and returned to their place. The bible she tossed into the corner of the room. She fell asleep faster than she'd expected, and slept steadily for the next twelve hours.

When she got up, she found that Bobby was still asleep, or at least in his bedroom with the lights turned off, so she went downstairs to survey the damage.

The first floor of the house was messy, to be sure, but not the bachelor kind of messy. It was the sad kind of messy- letting furniture get dusty, old things half packed in boxes while some were being picked up daily and set back down. It was the house of someone suffering a loss. Danica went through the foyer, careful not to touch anything, searching for the evidence of whoever had left Bobby Singer such a hopeless wreck. She soon found it- a framed photograph of a wedding- a younger, cleaner looking Bobby and a beautiful blonde woman beaming at the camera as though for all the world they would want nothing but that moment.

"That's Karen."

Bobby had come down the stairs a few seconds before, and paused at the entryway when he saw what Dani was looking at.

"She's beautiful. And you look so clean." She said, smiling at the photo.

Bobby snorted and took the picture from her hands. "She was my reason for livin' for so long, I guess when she was gone I just forgot that I had a life of my own."

"That's not abnormal at all."

"I know it ain't. What are you, some child psychologist? I got better things to do than get my head shrunk, like make some bacon."

For all his apparent anger, he set the photo down gently on top of one of the boxes, and Danica followed him into the kitchen. She started mixing eggs while Bobby prepared the bacon, and they were quiet for a while. But the quiet didn't last very long.

"Your name is awful foreign soundin'. Danica." The way he said it in his accent made it sound like '_Dain_-ica', and she smiled. "Where's that from?"

"Around." She said dismissively, "Danica is an old family name. I go by Dani, though, informally. And if we're living in the same house, helping each other out, I think that makes us informal. So you can feel free to call me Dani."

She elbowed her way to the burner he wasn't using and poured the egg mix over some toast, before tossing it in the pan. Bobby gave her a look.

"Don't judge. One of my mentors swore by this as a breakfast ritual every day. And he was probably the most brilliant scholar I've ever known. And I knew Socrates."

Bobby snorted.

They finished the cooking process and sat down to eat.

"So, we start with what you know. What kills what, how, the monsters you know of, and how many hunter friends you have." Danica said. "Also if I'm going to be answering questions of yours, you'll have to answer some of mine like: why won't you go shopping? And: whats the status of those boxes?"

"I've got everything I know in those books. If I own 'em, I've read 'em. I only have one huntin' buddy, and his name is Rufus. Shoppin' was always Karen's thing and I've been slowly gettin' her stuff into boxes for the basement. Its takin' longer than I thought it would. She's been gone for more'n a year and a half now."

Dani nodded, "I understand. If I'm going to be helping, though, things will go faster and memories will be packed away. Are you alright with that?"

Bobby looked down at his hands, wrapped around his beer and grumbled, "It's been long enough. The stuff I have up here is all I need, now." He tapped his head and adjusted his cap. That seemed to be Bobby's tick. Coughing and adjusting his cap. "Why 'd you decide to stay and help? I could be some creepy old man for all you know. I could have a torture chamber in my basement."

"Well," Dani said, getting up to clear the dishes, "For one, creepy old men tend to be creepier than you. And serial killers fall into lots of categories, the clean and literate, and the messy and mentally limited being two. But you are a mix of literate and messy. That doesn't scream murderer. That bemoans deep grief. And if there's one thing I know, its that people leave, or people die, and it hurts. I've so often been the leaver, I decided it was about time I gave back a little."

"So you're usin' me for karmic balance?" Bobby asked, looking disgruntled and topping off his beer.

"You're a hopeful case. And, to be honest, in all my years of living I've never experienced as much love for human beings as I have for a room full of books. And a roomful of books you have, Bobby Singer. So, let's get this ball rolling, shall we? We'll start here, in the kitchen. You take all of the books that have nothing to do with cooking out of here, into the foyer and I'll start getting things back in their place."

On his way out of the kitchen, saddled with an armful of books, Bobby started muttering to himself, "Women. Always bossin'. What was I thinking?"

* * *

**Bobby**

Dani turned out to be Bobby's ideal housemate. She was clean, orderly; a good cook with a whip of a tongue and nerves of steel. The house was slowly becoming more organized, every day a step closer to returning to its former glory, and every day Bobby had new bruises to show for his physical training.

"Upsy-daisy." Dani commanded on their third month of living together, leaning down to offer Bobby a helping hand.

He was sprawled on the floor again, having failed at another attempt to disarm Danica. She was quicker than he was, and though he'd like to chalk it up to his age, he knew he could do better. But for all the world he couldn't help but scowl at how a filly of her size could so easily toss a two-hundered-something pound man in his thirties down and then have the gall to say to him 'Upsy-daisy'.

"Hmm?" Dani said, tilting her head to the side.

He realized he's been mumbling and said, "Nothin'. Is there really any point to this? What kinda ghost is gonna have a gun?"

"You know that there are gun-wielding nutjobs out there, Bobby. Not to mention there's demonic possession, shape shifters, body snatchers, vampires, werewolves, all manner of things that CAN kill you with their bare hands, but might not want to get your blood on their pretty clothes. Knowing how to properly disarm a superhuman is invaluable. Now come at me again and do that thing I told you to do before, only this time do it better."

Dani was working on convincing Bobby that she was neither human, nor harmless. Slowly he was comprising a mental list of her weaknesses and strengths and, by night as she slept, trying to find a description of something like her in any of his books. So far he'd had no luck.

Bobby came at Dani again, this time focusing less on what he was doing and more on why he hadn't found out anything about her that she hadn't pretty much told him already. Before he really understood what was happening, he had a gun in his hands and Dani was jumping up and down, clapping her hands like a kid in a candy store.

"YES! Perfect! Fluid, thoughtless, completely natural. That's what I'm talking about. The more you think, the more you look, gaze, tense, twitch, and everything you are thinking is written on your face. That was lovely. It was like you were in a completely different place. This calls for a treat! Burgers!" And before he could spit, Dani was skipping into the kitchen. But after a moment she poked her head around the bend and said, "I hope you don't think of me as your maid, or, like, your cook. I'm not the kind of girl who gets labeled the housewife type. So you can get your own damn beer from the fridge, and you can cook the cows. I'll just get them all nice and seasoned. You should probably go get the grill fired up. Ya mook."

"Crazy bat." He muttered, but when she was gone, he looked down at the gun and felt a little pride. Loathe as he was to admit it, working with Dani was bringing him onto a whole new level of consciousness. He was learning about a world he had never known, making connections with people that could last a lifetime, and he was at the peak of his physical fitness.

He put away the gun, got a six pack from the fridge out back, and headed to the front porch to start up the grill.

He knew the ins and outs of his old grill just like he knew the ins and outs of his house, and the ins and outs of the cars he'd been working on all his life. That was the way Bobby liked things. Simple and familiar, everything in its place so anything could be fixed if you just knew how to tweak it.

He dumped the charcoal into the bottom of the grill and let some old memories wash over him with the dust and smoke.

"Bobby! Help!" Karen yelped, giggling as her bottle of Champaign overflowed. She always got them Champaign on anniversaries and special occasions. Tonight was both. So it was bubbly and steaks, to celebrate the combination of Karen's birthday and the anniversary of the day they first met.

He sat down next to her with their steaks and home-cooked mashed potatoes, the like of which he knew he'd never find, and picked up a glass to toast.

"To beautiful women whose cars break down in the middle of po-dinkity towns," He said.

"To the white knights who deal in perfect timing, elbow grease and car parts. My hero," they clinked their glasses together and shared a laugh.

He could remember the way her hair glowed bright in the lamplight, and the way her smile always reached every corner of her face. And for some reason he never could explain, she had been happy with him; a Midwestern hick of a mechanic she met on the side of the road by chance.

Maybe things hadn't been perfect, as perfect as he liked to remember, but they had been the best times of his life. Just him and his perfect woman, out here in the middle of nowhere.

"Bobby."

He could remember the way she could make his name sound like a filthy curse or like a treasured possession at whim.

"Bobby. Your grill is on fire."

Bobby harrumphed, and returned to the present with a sharp sting in his chest. He was here, now, with a girl who was not his wife making burgers and living life again- and suddenly he felt heavy with guilt.

"It's a grill, idjit, it's supposed to be on fire," he growled at Dani.

She shrugged and handed him the plate of meat and corn. "Whatever."

Dani sat down in one of the lounge chairs they had salvaged from his living room in the past week and stretched. She had gone down to the local shop days after she arrived for new clothes, and Bobby was startled to find how… varied her style could be. Not for the first time, he wondered how old Danica really was.

He laid the meat on the grill next to the corn, lips twitching at the familiar sizzle and pop, and then fell into the chair beside Dani's.

"Well," he said, reaching over and plucking a beer can from his six pack; he knew better than to offer one to Danica, who refused any kind of alcohol. Something about bringing out the demon in her, so he didn't push the subject. "Am I ever going to find out what sort of… creature you are?"

"I don't know. Are you ever going to flat out ask?"

Bobby looked at her with confusion. He had never thought to just straight up ask. It seemed, well to be frank it seemed rude. And besides that, it seemed like a bad idea. A trap.

Dani sighed and crossed her legs over the banister of the porch. "I'm ancient, I'll have you know. Have you been reading up on your Mythos?"

"Sure."

"Don't you 'sure' me unless you mean it, Robert Singer."

"A little." He admitted. He had been spending less time on the mythologies, more time on Jewish and Islamic histories. Egyptian and Greek were such common knowledge, they didn't seem worth a waste of time. But he knew that if he said that aloud, Dani would whap him one right over the head.

"Well, when you've read more we'll talk."

He could hardly call that unfair. Dani never asked questions she didn't genuinely want or need the answer to, and Bobby always tried to return that favor.

They sat in silence a while, enjoying the midday sunshine from their cool shelter. Bobby tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

He didn't leave the house much since Karen's death. People in the town seemed to still suspect him of murder, and he had never much liked them to begin with. Sitting here on his porch, or getting out into the yard to fix the occasional passing car was the closest he came to the real world. The only people he entertained were Dani, Rufus, the erstwhile wandering Hunter, and the Sheriff who seemed to be keeping a close eye on him.

They ate their lunch, Bobby in silence and Dani explaining to him the difference between a ghost and a poltergeist. This was the routine; Dani talked, and Bobby listened. Over the past few months he had learned more about the supernatural world from Dani and his growing collection of books than he had ever expected to learn about anything in his life. And, after the first couple of weeks, he had felt ready to go on his first hunt with Dani and Rufus.

Rufus was displeased to have a woman tagging along, so after the first time their hunts were separate; Bobby tagged along with Rufus, or Dani tagged along with Bobby. The latter was a much rarer occasion. He'd been shocked to find out that while she possessed near infinite knowledge of the things that loomed in the dark, she was hesitant to combat them.

Over time Bobby's reputation grew, and he and Rufus moved on to tackling bigger and badder monsters.

"Can we go in, Bobby? That hornet by your foot has been giving me the smoulder since I finished eating and I think he's about to make his move on me."

Bobby rolled his eyes and got up, picking up the dishes and closing the hood of the grill. While Dani backed into the house, keeping one eye on the offending bug.

They went back inside and, while Dani continued stacking books, Bobby buried himself in the one she had set open on the table- A History of Greek Mythology. He sighed and started to read.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**Dani**

Sometime after the sky had turned dark, the phone in the kitchen rang.

Dani, who had finally sat down to relax after a day of shelving and organizing heavy books, groaned. She turned to look at Bobby, and found him asleep and drooling on an illustration of the goddess Athena breaking free from Zeus' skull. She kicked him with her foot, and he started awake with a snuffling sound.

"Phone," She said.

He made a noise and got up to answer the call. As he did, though, there was a knock at the front door.

Danica rolled her eyes, sighed, and pushed herself up off the chair. "Popular tonight, are we?" she muttered to herself. It was usually her duty to answer the door anyway- it was a rare occasion when Bobby was greeted by a visitor he was pleased to see. She dragged her feet all the way to the door, and pulled it open.

The man who stood on the porch looked, if at all possible, scruffier than Bobby himself had looked all those weeks ago when she had arrived on this very same doorstep. His hair was black but streaked with grey that was hardly attributive to age, and a tan, bearded face. He looked worn, world-weary and woeful. But besides that, very handsome.

"Ahhhhh," she said, looking the man up and down as women are wont to do when presented with a specimen of such quality, "What can I do ya for?"

She instantly berated herself for her choice of words. But the haggard man didn't seem to mind or, really, to notice.

"I'm looking for Bobby. Bobby Singer?" He looked at her as though, in his tired state, she might be the Bobby that he was looking for.

"Oh! For Bobby! Of course. I mean, he lives here." She rolled her eyes and shot a grin at the stranger, who remained fairly expressionless, though he seemed to be avoiding eye contact with her.

"BOBBAY!" she called down the hall, loud enough to wake him if he were on the opposite side of the house. "COMPANY!"

Her yelling seemed to startle the man, though he didn't lose his groggy expression.

"I'm Dani." She said, extending a hand to him.

"John. Winchester," He added his last name like an afterthought. He looked at a space over Dani's shoulder, and she turned to find Bobby walking down the hall. She lowered her un-shaken hand with a pout as John Winchester focused all of his attention on the old bear.

"Mr. Singer?" John asked, stepping cautiously toward the threshold.

"Just call me Bobby," Bobby said, welcoming the man in and shutting the door behind him. "Rufus just called to say you'd be stoppin' by. Come on." He led John into the foyer, Dani trailing close behind. "You're John Winchester?"

"Yes sir."

"Dani, could you go make us some of that kickin' expresso you make? I think he and I are gonna need it." Bobby sat in the armchair and indicated for John to take the couch.

"It's called an Irish Coffee, mook."Dani rolled her eyes, but headed for the alcohol cabinet.

"Rufus said you're on the heels of something here in South Dakota…" the boy's talk was drowned out as Dani traveled with the bottle of whiskey and started to fill the coffee cup in the kitchen.

She was used to Hunters' presence by now, but she was always plagued by the fear that they would all treat her with the same distrust and general dislike that Rufus had. It was silly, all the other Hunters seemed to like her well enough, but it was a constant nagging. Like an itch you can never reach to scratch.

She brewed the coffee and brought three mugs into the foyer, setting two down on coasters in front of the men, and seating herself on the opposite end of the couch from John The-Man-Who-Makes-Womens'-Hearts-Go-baBOOMWinchester.

Bobby eyed the mug in her hands and said "I thought you didn't-"

She wiggled the cup a little, nearly sloshing its contents all over herself, "All coffee, cream and sugar in here, pal."

Bobby shrugged, and turned his attention back to John, who seemed to be trying to slowly edge away and avoid eye contact with Dani. He cast a glance at her, and she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

He looked back to Bobby, ruffled. "Ah, so is there anything in any of your books that can help me?"

"Well," said Bobby, grunting before taking a sip of coffee, "I certainly have experience with demonic possession. And I'd be pleased as punch to help you out, but I don't think books is whatcha need. Better to learn on the job, if you don't mind my company."

John looked uneasy. "I can't spend a lot of time on this job I have- I have to get back to Kansas by tomorrow night."

"Well hell. That makes things damn difficult." Bobby said, downing the rest of his coffee in one chug. "Better get goin' now, then."

"Really? I know you're a guy and all, Bobby, but _look_ at the man." Dani said. John was staring groggily at them both from under heavily lidded eyes. "He needs sleep. You need sleep. Why don't we all take what, six hours? And then head out."

"You're goin'?" Bobby asked, suspicious.

"The two of you look like the damn walking dead. I don't want you driving like this. Besides, you said this thing is in Huron? That's two hour's drive. One hour for sleep, one hour to clean your guns or practice your Latin or whatever you two want to do. Play patty-cake for all I care. But I will not let you fight a demon running on less than seven hours of sleep."

John seemed about to protest, but Bobby waved a hand. "There's no arguin' with her when she's like this. It's like talking to a big ol' wall of mama grizzly bear. And she's right. Huntin' on empty is askin' for trouble. I've seen Dani drive- she'll get you back here in time to find yer way to Kansas before sunset."

The men finished their mugs and took to a little more discussion before falling asleep right in their seats. John had been the first to go, leading Bobby to chuckle at the other man's expense, but it wasn't too long before he, too, was out cold.

"Besides," Dani said, covering both men with quilts from the trunk by the couch. "You would have dropped dead asleep on the way there anyway. I put some NyQuil in your drinks. Sleep tight, boys."

* * *

**John Winchester**

At four AM sharp John Winchester and Bobby Singer found themselves being shoved into an old ford haplessly, and carefully made little breakfast burritos shoved into their hands.

"Eat and sleep, kiddos. I'll drive."

Though she had made them aware of the plan to get to Huron and back, this Danica girl had failed to mention that she was the sort to sing in the car.

At first John's reaction was to mentally groan and roll his eyes, wondering how he was expected to sleep with all the racket, but after the first few seconds he came to realize that the voice he was hearing was soft and soothing, making him downright drowsy. He took a bite of the burrito to find it filled with scrambled egg and bacon in warm gooey cheese. For the first time in a while, he relaxed.

And then John Winchester, later to be known as one of the most renown hunters in history, feared by many and respected by all, fell asleep with a burrito in his mouth, listening to Lionel Richie.

* * *

**Dani**

It took months, but over time John Winchester and Bobby Singer became one hell of a team. If there was a monster roaming the Midwest John and Bobby were bound to find it, and kill it. They became almost partners, closer to each other than even Rufus and Bobby had been- which irked the old bastard to no end, consequently giving Danica one more thing to smirk about.

The two men were out hunting practically every weekend, and Dani began to find herself with more and more alone time. She accompanied them occasionally, but over time her attitude towards John curdled as she realized that his sleepy surly-ness was not a mood, but an aspect of his personality, so she tended to leave John and Bobby to their moody hunting trips.

The two of them even stayed in contact while in their own states, referred each other to other Hunters and, when John decided to leave Kansas for good, Bobby offered him a place to stay.

"No place is safe, Bobby," John warned over a pay-phone somewhere in Nebraska, "Sioux Falls may work for you and Danica, but I can't risk being tied up in one place for too long. I can't lose my boys."

His boys, as Bobby and Dani learned on one of their later hunts with John, were his sons Sam and Dean. One was two years old, the other six. They were the reason he was always adamant that a hunt never last more than 24 hours- he left them with old family friends or, if the hunt was short, alone in a motel.

"This is absolutely ridiculous." Danica said, putting her foot down one day at breakfast nearly a year after coming to live with Bobby and meeting John Winchester. She snatched the phone from Bobby's hand, and making John wince on the other end of the line."I won't stand for it. You cannot leave those boys _alone_ in a _motel._ I won't allow it. I won't."

John took a pause and then started to protest.

"NO. You cannot leave a six year old child in charge of a baby! You bring those boys over here this instant or I swear, I will beat you like an ugly red-headed stepchild with my ugly stick until the end of time. It's utter nonsense, leaving those boys alone. Or with old people. Good gracious." She turned away, mumbling to herself and shoving the phone back into Bobby's hand.

It took another hour or so of convincing, but by noon John was worn down.

"Big vampire nest up in Minnesota. It's a weeklong job at least." Bobby said, coming onto the living room and starting to pack up his things. "Rufus is down in Louisianna and can't help. William's off the grid. We didn't think we were gonna be able to exterminate the whole nest but now- looks like you'll be gettin' your wish for those two bundles 'a joy." Bobby rolled his eyes. "Have fun."

.

Dani felt stupid sitting on a chair on the front porch, as she waited for John in his rickety old Impala like a kid waiting for Santa Claus in his sleigh.

It had been too long since she'd been around kids. Way back in her yonder years she'd been a nanny. A good one, too. It was easier for her to notice and cater to the emotions of children than adults; not to mention they rarely made her life uncomfortable the way grown-ups, mostly hunters, seemed to do so often. Kids were mostly too busy asking why the ocean was blue and how the moon stays in the sky to ask Danica questions about the things that made her so obviously inhuman. Kids. Simple little bastards.

Suddenly, the shiny black top of John's signature car came into view and Dani squealed, wiggling in her seat.

The Winchester boys: a couple of little bundles of charm like their daddy, she was sure. Quiet and polite and well-mannered. They'd have to be, to live with John, wouldn't they? He was a rather militant man. They'd probably need some cheering up, too. And a home-cooked meal.

The Impala came to a stop, parked sloppily in the middle of the yard, and out came the Winchesters.

First came John, stepping around the car to open the door for his boys,then out came the kids. The oldest, Dean, was covered nine ways to Hell in freckles all across the bridge of his nose. His hair was short and a little spiky, and he cast Danica a weary look as he got out of the car and turned to help his brother. He got Sam out of the car and slowly, patiently walked with his younger brother-a bitty little thing with more hair than any two year old Danica had ever seen- up twords Bobby's house. It was clear from the way that John walked in front of, instead of beside, his children, that they had formed a closer bond to each other than they had to him. Sam didn't seem to even see his father, but kept his eyes riveted on Dean as if he were a hero straight out of a comic book. And Dean- Dean just seemed to be especially morose for a six year old.

"John," Dani said, greeting the father of her charges with little actual interest. There had been a time that she had been attracted to him, but once she saw the looks on his kids' faces she was sold on the idea that this… this was not the kind of person she wanted to be around unless there was a creature to be killed or an order to be followed. "I assume these handsome little tykes are the boys I've heard so very little about?"

John looked agitated, but nudged his sons forward, "My boys, Sam and Dean."

John looked like he might explode from the forced politeness he was attempting to show, so Dani crouched down to address the Wee-chesters.

"Hi, Sam and Dean. I'm Danica. I'm a friend of your dad's. Well, a friend of your dads' friend." She held her hand out and, much like his father, Dean ignored it.

Sam, however, reached out with a big, toothy smile and gripped her hand. She grabbed him tight and swung him up to balance on her hip, Sam giggling the whole way. She smiled at him, and then down at Dean. "Atta boy. We're going to have fun, we are, you guys and me."

Dean looked skeptical.

Bobby arrived then, greeting John and making introductions with the boys. Dean seemed much more receptive to Bobby than to Dani, and made a sour face when the two men left the girl and bitty ones on the porch.

"Call if you need us to come back straightaway. Keys to the Ford'r on the coat rack. Don't get into too much trouble," Bobby called.

John left his sons with a nod, which Dean retruned and Sam ignored- too busy playing with Danica's hair.

As the Impala took off in a cloud of dust, Dani sighed and looked at the boys.

"So, what do you rugrats do for fun?"

* * *

.

**AN: **Finally we're rid of the old grumpuses. Bobby and John will pop up now and again, but for now its just the little Winchesters and their Babysitter. So here's what I want to know: leave a review and tell me what it is you want to see of the WeeChesters- Dean learning to ride a bike (no training wheels, because he's a little daredevil), Sammy's first trip to a Chuck-E-Cheese? Tell me what you want to see, and I will try to make it happen :)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**Dean Winchester**

Dean Winchester did not like new people. Dean Winchester especially did not like women. They were squeaky and they liked to pinch his face and they always tried to hold Sammy up where Dean couldn't reach him. He did _not_ like it. So when he met Danica he decided that he would definitely not like her.

One of the very first things she did was to pick Sam up out of Dean's reach- he really hated that. He was always afraid they'd drop his little brother, or make those awful cooing bird-like noises at him and make him cry. But Sammy didn't cry when Danica picked him up. He giggled and she talked to him in a very serious voice and he just kept smiling with his pokey new teeth that Dean had already experienced were rather sharp.

And the very first super-fun thing that his new babysitter wanted to do- was to go to the store.

"I've got to grab some kiddo stuff. You know; teething rings, baby food, cowboy hats and toy guns. All that good stuff," Danica said, strapping Dean and his brother in. She patted the booster seat their dad left her, and Sam clapped giddily. Sammy had a bad habit of trusting any girl who had hair that was long enough to pull. Dean, however, was not so easily won.

All the way to the store Danica the Babysitter chattered on and on. Dean didn't pay any attention to what she was saying, staring out the window and thinking about how much he wished Dad would just take him and Sammy with him to wherever he was going instead of leaving them with some lady they didn't even know. He was mad at Danica the Babysitter for being a weird chatterbox, he was mad at Dad for leaving him and Sammy behind, and he was even mad at Sammy for being too little to be mad at all.

When they finally got to the store, Danica turned around in her seat and looked at the boys. Dean tried to ignore her, but after a while he heard Sammy giggling and he couldn't help sneeking a peek.

Danica was making the weirdest face he had ever seen on a person- her lips were tucked under and stuck to her teeth, her nose was all sucked in and her eyes were wiggling in her face and she was making a whistling noise with her tongue.

He couldn't help it- Dean laughed until his sides hurt.

"Look, boys, I just want you to know that I'm here to keep you out of danger," Danica the babysitter said while they laughed, "That's all. I'm not here to be a buzzkill or be your fake-mom. I'm not even going to try and keep you out of trouble. That's no fun. Getting into trouble is half the fun of life, the other half is getting out of it. So lose the grumpus-face, okay Dean-o?"

He stopped laughing and took a good look at his and Sammy's new babysitter.

"I guess you could be worse." He said finally.

"That's good enough for me!" Danica said with a great big smile

She got out of the car and let them out, leading them to the store- Dean holding her hand and Sammy's. She grabbed a shopping cart and hauled both of the boys in, then headed into the market.

Dean hadn't been to a real food store like this since he was three. Dad never took them shopping and every time he stayed with babysitters all they ever wanted to do was sit him and Sammy in front of the TV and do other stuff. When he did go it was with Mom, and she always went extra slow because of carrying Sammy around in her tummy.

So he was surprised when Danica wiggled her eyebrows at them and then, with a loud engine noise, decided to to take off down the aisle and ride with her feet on the bottom of the cart, food wooshing by in a blur.

Next to him Sammy squealed with delight and yelled "RACECAR!"

"Palindrome. Nice!" She slowed the cart and high fived Sammy.

"What's that?" Dean asked, not used to hearing such big words- grown ups around him and Sammy usually tried to keep things simple.

"A palindrome, my good sirs," Danica said, trotting down the baby food aisle, "is a word that's spelled the same way forward and backward. Like 'dad' and 'eye' and 'kayak'."

"Or mom." Dean mumbled.

Danica made a sad face at him, and it reminded Dean of when he said things about Mom in front of his dad- he always got that look on his face too.

"So, Dean Winchester. What does your brother like to eat?"

"Sammy likes pudding."

"PUDDING!" Sammy echoed excitedly.

"But that's only for dessert, he can't eat that all the time." Dean said, echoing his father. Sammy made a pouty face, but Dean ignored him. "He likes the meat kind of baby food but he doesn't like the veg-table ones. He won't eat the fruit ones if you say they're fruit but he'll eat 'em if you say they're just pudding."

Dean looked over at Sammy, who was suddenly distracted by the balloon stuck up on the ceiling, and waved his hands to make Danica lean down close to him. "He eats the sweet potato baby food if you say it's pudding too. That's the only way he eats his veg-tables," He whispered.

Danica nodded and grabbed a bunch of the baby foods, then they went down a few aisles and got pudding- getting another squeal out of Sam- before reaching the grown-ups food.

"And what, Sam-The-Man, does your brother like to eat?" Danica said, leaning down to get Sam's full attention.

"PUDDING!" Sam yelled.

Danica grinned at him, then looked at Dean.

"I like corn." Dean said. It was one of the foods that he was allowed to eat that Sammy wasn't, that was why he liked it so much. Dad said Sammy couldn't have it because he might choke, so he almost never got to eat it.

"Corn it is!"

Danica pushed them around for a while longer and picked up a few more things before they finally left the store. The ride back was more fun, because Danica let Dean sit up front and pick a radio station- so he picked the one dad always listened to. She didn't talk this time, and neither did Dean.

When they got back to the big house in the junkyard, Danica brought out a big radio for Dean to play with in the kitchen, while Sammy sat on the floor and chewed on some of the teething rings they'd bought.

They listened to some Def Leppard while they ate, and Sammy only flung one spoonful of mashed peas before Danica the babysitter used her serious voice to convince him to eat the rest. By the time they were done eating dinner it was getting dark outside and Danica was pushing them out onto the porch.

"Alright, boys. Have you ever caught fireflies before?"

* * *

**Dani**

It turned out that the boys hadn't ever gone firefly hunting before, so Danica spent a few minutes teaching them how to gently catch the little bugs and put them in one of the jars she had cleaned and prepared for just this occasion.

And then she sat back and watched.

Since she first saw them, Dani had been endlessly intrigued by the Winchester brothers. Dean had seemed so much like his father, sleepy and sour- but when it came to his brother he became sweet and attentive. And little Sam was just a literal bundle of joy, all smiles and giggles and a strong will to learn. Even now he was sitting in the grass, staring in wonder at the firefly in his small hands.

Dean was intently focused on trying to catch as many fireflies as he could, but he always turned to make sure that Sam was right where he left him. It was sweet. Dani sat with her knees pulled up to her chest on the porch and watched while Dean chased and Sam studied. After a while, Dean seemed satisfied with the number of fireflies in his jar and went to sit beside his brother in the grass. From her place on the porch Dani could just hear them whispering.

"Wacha doin' Sammy?" Dean asked.

"Glowy," Sam mimicked his brother's low tone, holding the firefly up for Dean to see.

"Yeah. Glowy. It's a firefly. They had 'em back in Kansas but we never saw 'em coz our bedtime was so early. When I was littler mom used to let me stay up to see 'em the very first night they came out, but that was it. Do you like 'em?"

"Yeah," Sam said. His attention was fully on his big brother, grey eyes wide and absolutely fascinated.

She let them sit for a while longer in silence before walking over.

"Mind if I join?" She asked gently.

Dean looked up at her and seemed to truly consider if she was worthy or not before nodding his assent. She sat down so she was behind Sam and could put him on her lap.

She looked down at the firefly in his hands and said, "Firefly. But you know some people call them lightning bugs, too."

"Lightning bug?" Sam asked.

"Lightning bug." Dani confirmed. "You ready to go to bed?"

Sam nodded sleepily, as though the very mention of bed had reminded his little two year old brain of his long day. She looked at Dean and he, too, looked like he was ready to fall over.

She carried Sam in, Dean close on her heels with his little jar of fireflies. She got them into the Pajamas John had left and put them in Bobby's bed. She put the jar of fireflies on the bedside table and gently combed through the boys' hair with her fingers. She considered asking them if they wanted to hear a bedtime story, but Sam was already asleep and Dean was well on his way.

"Goodnight, boys."

She got to the door and turned out the lights before she heard "'Night Danica."

She smiled to herself and closed the door to a crack.

"Sleep tight," she whispered "And don't let the bedbugs bite."

Danica made herself a cup of hot chocolate and sat at the kitchen table, enjoying the fulfillment that she had gotten from a day spent with the Wee-Chesters.

It wasn't long though before she got bored and had to get up and get herself a book. She chose one that didn't look familiar and sat down to read. Norse Mythology. Weird.

Time flew by and before she knew it she looked up at the clock and it was near midnight. She sighed and got up to get herself more hot chocolate when she heard scuffling behind her. She turned at once, kitchen knife in hand only to find a sleepy looking Dean in ruffled pajamas rubbing his eyes with frustration.

She stashed the knife behind her back before he could see and said, "Dean. What are you doing up, sweetheart?"

He looked up at her with red eyes- not just sleep red, but crying red. "Nightmares," was all he said before seating himself at the table and laying his head down on the cold wood.

Danica didn't need any more explanation. She stashed the knife and made two cups of hot chocolate instead of one. She set one mug by Dean and sat down with her own.

She continued to read while Dean took tentative sips of his hot chocolate.

Eventually though, she heard a familiar snuffling sound and looked up to see Dean twisting the empty mug in his small hands, with one tear running down his cheek.

Without thinking Dani scooped the boy up in her arms and sat with him in her lap while he cried.

Sometimes that's just enough. Just having someone there with you while you cry, having someone there to hold on to, to tether you to the real world while you wallow in your sorrow, is enough.

Of course, someone who is six years old shouldn't have so much to wallow in.

So as she rocked she sang. Softly. Some old latin hym she had learned hundereds of years ago, back when she still went to church. The longer they rocked the softer Dean's sobs became until he was quieted.

"I just miss her a lot."Dean said, sniffling.

"I know you do." Danica paused, thinking over her words before continuing, "I know how hard it must be for you to take care of your brother, and your father, without her. And you know what? I know she would be _so_ _proud_ of you. You take such good care of your baby brother, Dean. I could never take care of someone half as well as you take care of Sam. I know he never says so, but your dad is so proud, and so thankful and he loves you so so much."

Dean let one more tear fall before closing his eyes tight. After a while, though, they relaxed into a peaceful sleep.

Danica smiled and carried the little one back upstairs, taking care to tuck him safely into his blankets and planted a kiss on his forehead that she knew, if she'd attempted while he was awake, would have merited a squawk and a glare. She paused for a moment at the door, taking in the sleeping brothers bathed in the soft glow of their firefly nightlight. Sweet boys. Not exactly what she had imagined- better, actually. Sweet and loving and a little bit damaged but so incredibly, inherently good.

Danica trotted back down the stairs and put the book on Norse Mythology away, turning instead to the tip-top shelf that Bobby tended to avoid, searching until she found the book she was looking for, its cover marked only by a simple pagan five-pointed star. She took the book into the kitchen and made herself cinnamon-sugar toast, then turned to the chapter on herbs and charms used to ward off nightmares and began to read.

* * *

A/N: I love getting ideas on what to do with the Winchester boys next. I have some plans that involve pudding, Cartoons that Dean find inaccurate, and some of that weird earthy stuff Dani seems to be into- but I always welcome ideas! Comment and tell me what you want to see next and I'll make it happen. Writing. It's like magic, only not XD.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**Danica**

It didn't take long for the sun to rise, and the boys to rise with it. One thing she never quite got used to was how children always seemed more apt to waking up in the morning than normal human beings.

"Morning, kiddos," Dani said, eyeing the boys with amusement at their still-sleepy, pouting faces. "Pancakes and cartoons?"

She settled them in the foyer in front of the TV while she made breakfast- pancakes that were supposed to be in the shape of dinosaurs but turned out to be nothing more than very freakish, asymmetrical blobs.

She piled a plate high with what she had decided to tell the boys were amoeba-shaped pancakes, and went to join them on the floor in front of the TV. Lucky for Dani, neither Sam nor Dean took notice of the shape of the pancakes, too busy eating and watching Bugs Bunny with rapt attention.

"That's not right." Dean complained as Elmer Fudd took a flurry of shots at Bugs. "He has to reload!"

"Dean!" Danica said, shocked. "How on earth-"

"Dad took me shooting one time and that's a shotgun. You gotta reload a shotgun. I can't shoot one because they're so big, but I can shoot a little one and I'm really good at it."

"I bet!" Dani said, flustered. It was one thing to be a hunter, to seek vengeance, but to teach a six year old how to shoot a gun? Absolutely ridiculous!

She took the empty plates back to the kitchen and tried to wrap her mind around the image of John and Dean in some abandoned field somewhere practicing with shotguns and handguns and pistols and bazookas for all she knew while poor Sam sat in some backseat crying from the noise and oh boy if she were human she was sure she'd be experiencing palpitations.

While Dani leaned on the counter to try and collect herself, in the other room she could hear Dean pointing out more discrepancies to Sam, who she was sure hardly heard him. It seemed the boob-tube was the only thing that could keep Sam's attention better than Dean could.

"Okay, boys, we're going out again today." Dani said, reentering the foyer. Dean groaned and fell back on the floor, giving Danica an upside-down look of disapproval.

"Yeah yeah, I know, you hate me, whatever. Go get your clothes on and help your brother get dressed, okay? And look at it this way- it's a long drive, and you get to pick the music the whole way there and back. Pinkie promise."

Dean pulled a face, but tugged Sam up from the floor and led him out of the room and up the stairs without complaint.

Danica grabbed a few things out of Bobby's desk drawers, occasionally lifting a false bottom or opening a hidden hatch to reach what she needed. She piled the collection gently in her purse, and went to wait for the boys at the foot of the stairs. It was a short wait, and then they were off, rumbling along in the old '68 Ford.

Dean fiddled with the radio for twenty minutes or so before succumbing to sleep, which Sam had done in the first five minutes. Dani didn't mind. They were sweet when they slept, and she had a feeling that they didn't do a lot of sleeping when John left them all alone in those motels. Well, maybe little Sammy got some sleep- but Dean surely stayed awake through night and day, watching Sam with a hawk's eye and waiting patiently or impatiently for their father to return.

The car ride to Yankton was over an hour long, and though it was one she had made before, Dani entertained herself by looking in the rearview mirror and wondering exactly how long the snot bubble on Sam's nose would last. She kept her giggles subsided for the most part, but had to let a few slip when Dean mumbled "I _love_ pie!" in his sleep. These kids, man.

They had finally reached their destination, and Dani shook the boys awake.

Dean woke rather unwillingly, but helped Dani to get Sam out of the car seat. When they looked around, the boys seemed shocked.

"Where are all the roads and stuff?" Dean asked, gripping Dani and Sam's hands tightly.

"There aren't any over here. We, my little friends, are on an American Indian Reservation in Yankton, South Dakota. And over there," Dani said, pointing with her free hand to the tents and huts and columns of smoke a few yards away, "Is the market."

"Market?" Sam asked.

"Market, where they buy and sell things. But now we're on their land, so we have to go by their rules and respect all of their things, so don't touch stuff that you know you shouldn't, and stay close to me, okay?"

Dean and Sam nodded, taking in what were probably brand new sights and smells as they entered the marketplace.

As they started to see people, Dani greeted some with familiarity, and some with humblr respect. They did likewise, though some with much confusion. There were more people here than there had been before, and yet the reservation itself had grown smaller in the couple of years she'd last visited.

"Star Woman!" Someone yelled, and Dani turned to find herself locked in the embrace of an old friend.

Dani laughed and hugged the girl back. "Kimmy!"

They faced each other, and Dani squawked in surprise "Good gracious, Kimmy, you grew!"

Kimmy shrugged and did a little twirl to show how much she had grown in their time apart. She had kept the same long, braided black hair and excitable hazel eyes, but last Dani had seen her Kimmy had reached only her shoulder. Now they were eye-to-eye.

"And you look exactly the same, old friend!" she hugged Danica again, and then turned her attention to the boys, who at this point were looking as though they were undergoing thorough culture shock. "And who are these lovely young men?"

"These are two boys I'm babysitting. Sam and Dean."

"How very nice to meet you, little ones. My name is Kimmela, but you can call me Kimmy."

Dean nodded, still looking a bit brain-fried. Sam, who Danica never would have taken for shy, dipped behind his brother and used him as a shield.

"So," Kimmela said, turning her attention back to Danica. "To what do we owe the pleasure, Star?"

"Oh, it's just Danica, now, actually. And we're here for some supplies." She pulled the bag of hers and Bobby's collected items from her purse. "Hoping to make a few trades, get all of the things we'll need to make two Dreamcatchers."

Kimmela looked at Dani with a new edge, one of suspicion. "You can get willow, twine, and feathers anywhere. Why come out here to us?"

"I want the real stuff, Kimmy. None of the touristy mumbo-jumbo crap."

Kimmela eyed her again. Dani knew Kimmy had always been wary of the more supernatural side of her heritage, the thought of unseen powers made her uncomfortable. It was one of the reasons they had become friends in the first place. Finally Kimmela hesitantly beckoned for them to follow, and began winding her way through the narrow pathways of the temporary dwelings until they reached a house beyond the land of tents. It was small and cozy looking and there was smoke billowing from the chimney. Kimmela looked at Dani and opened the door. "She's in there. She'll get you what you need."

"Thanks, Kimmy. It was good seeing you." She tugged the boys with her to the doorway.

"You too, Star. Come back some time, no agenda. We'll have a good celebration for you." And with that, Kimmy was gone.

* * *

**Dean**

"Danica, how come she kept calling you Star?" Dean asked as Danica ushered him into the house.

"When your babysitter was living here with the Sioux, she went by the name Star Woman. I think she meant it to help her fit in but, as you can probably see, there are some differences between her and I."

The walls of the house they just entered were covered in things Dean had never seen before. Collections of different kinds of plants hung from the ceiling or rested on shelves, there were shiny knives and big paintings that covered every inch of the walls. There was even a great big white craggily thing that Dean knew, from watching TV, was an animal skull. And standing in the middle of the room with a big bowl and spoon in her hands was a tall, skinny woman with black eyes and black hair who made Dean feel very uncomfortable. He gripped Sammy's hand tight, and made sure that he was standing between his brother and the scary woman. She just looked at them and at Danica, and then from behind her came a much older, hunchier, but nicer looking lady, and Dean was pretty sure she was the one who had spoken to them.

"Hello, Danica." The old woman said.

Danica made an awkward bow before coughing into her hand and apologizing. "My manners are a bit rusty. It's been a while since I was here last, and I wasn't here for long."

"It's no matter," the woman waved her hand, and started walking around and gathering thing in her old, knobby hands. She brought them over and handed them to Danica. "For the nightmares?"

Danica nodded, and Dean noticed she kept a suspicious eye on the lean young woman who was still standing in the middle of the room, watching them.

"I have lots for you to choose from for payment." Danica said, opening the big bag of stuff Dean had seen her pull out of her purse earlier. It looked like it was full of powders and plants and Dean thought he saw a couple of bones.

The old woman pawed though the collection before settling on a long, bright thing that might have been a feather or a scale and didn't seem to have a color. "Oh that's lovely. You have more of these, I think?"

Danica nodded. "At home. I thought they might do nicely in the Dreamcatchers, but then again maybe-"

"Not." The old woman nodded, and took the feathery scaley thing and walked away as she talked. "You'd do better to stick with the basics in that bag. A pair of each eagle, swan, blue jay, crow and hawk. The hawk feathers are not to be used today, Danica. You'll know when the time is right to use them."

"Thank you, grandmother." Danica did the awkward bow thing again, even though the woman had left the room without even looking back, and put the things the old lady gave her into her purse so she could hold Dean's hand.

But just when they reached the door, the thin, spidery looking woman blocked their way. "Are you sure you want to leave without having your futures read?" She asked, eyeing the boys and their babysitter.

"Decidedly not." Danica said in a tone Dean though might be anger, and she shoved past the woman and walked quickly out of the house. "Eughhh," Danica said, twitching all over. "That creepy chick give you guys the heebie-jeebies or what?"

Dean nodded, and next to him Sammy echoed, "Heebie-jeevies."

Danica packed them into the car drove off in a hurry. "Blegh. She was just- blegh. I'm going to be getting goosebumps for the next couple of days. Jiminy Christmas. Blaghlaghlaghhh." Danica was opening her mouth and waggling her tongue around, which made Dean and Sam both laugh.

"It's not funny! She had me all weirded out and I thought I was going to have to, like, tackle her or something to get out of there. Eesh."

They laughed some more at Danica's expense, and then after a while the car got quiet again and Sammy fell asleep.

"Hey, Danica, what's the feathers for?" Dean whispered.

"Dean. You can call me Dani. I'm not some curmudgeonly old nanny. And they're for the Dreamcatchers we're gonna make when we get back to Bobby's. I know you had a nightmare last night, and if we make these juuuuust right, we can make the nightmares go away."

"But I don't want them to go away!" Dean said, keeping his voice quiet for Sammy's sake. "They're scary but she's in 'em and I never have dreams with just her in 'em. I have to-"

"Dean, Dean, Dean!" Dani said, trying to get his attention. "It's okay. When the nightmares go away, good dreams will come I promise. And if you use the Dreamcatcher and you have another nightmare or you don't dream about your mom at all, then you don't have to use it, okay? It only works if you hang it over your bed so if you don't want it you can just throw it away."

Dean thought about her proposal, and then said, "Okay."

He leaned back into his seat and watched the trees and road speed by. He wasn't sure yet if he liked Dani, but he did like some of the things she did. Like he liked that she always let _him_ hold Sammy's hand, and he liked when she sang because it made him feel sleepy, and he liked how he could just say stuff and she knew what he meant.

Dean didn't like to talk about his mom very much. When he mentioned her to his dad he just looked all sad and wouldn't talk about her unless _he_ wanted to. But sometimes _Dean_ really wanted to, and that didn't matter because Dad didn't so that was the end. He watched as a cloud that looked like the shape of an angel disappeared behind a wall of trees and tried to snuggle down into the seat so he could fall asleep.

* * *

**Dani**

She had let the boys sleep through the car rides because a car full of sleeping kids beats a car full of bouncing-off-the-wall kids any day, but she was starting to wonder if that meant they would be up until all hours of the night.

"Upsy-daisy, boys." She said once they were back at Bobby's, letting the boys out of the car and watching as Dean half-walked half-carried Sam to the porch.

She let them all in and by the time she had everything they needed for the Dreamcatchers set out on the table, both boys were wide awake.

Dani picked up one of the bendy slivers of wood and looked at it hard before handing it to Dean. "Yours is the Alder wood. I think this," she grabbed the other bendy wood piece, "Is Sammy's . Oak, I do believe."

"Why does the wood have to be different?" Dean asked while he mimicked Danica's movements.

Dean was twisting his own circle of wood, while Sam sat on Dani's lap and watched her form his. Dean seemed to learn better by watching than by Dani telling him what to do, so she answered his question while she worked the strands into a decent circle.

"I don't know. I trust in the Native American woman, she's been doing this a long time and she probably knows something about wood that we don't."

"Then how did you know which one was mine and which one was Sammy's?"

Oops.

"Because, well because "Alder" sounds like "older" and you're the older brother. So you get the Alder wood."

Dean seemed satisfied with this answer, and even more satisfied with his wooden wreath.

Dani grinned her approval at him, and they continued to the next step- tieing the string around the wreath, and then through the string itself to create the spider-like web. Dean got stuck a couple of times, and a few of the mistakes Dani told him to keep.

"Perfection is bull. Learning from mistakes is ideal." She told him.

They finished their webs, and moved on to tying on the feathers. Four on each Dreamcatcher seemed to look just right, and Dani let each of the boys decide what order their feathers should go in and how long the strings should be.

In the end, they had two lovely Dreamcatchers that even Dean was eager to hang above Bobby's bed. Sam's feathers hung lower than Dean's and went in color order from lightest to darkest, while Dean's hung at varying lengths and had blue and white on the inside, flanked by black and white/grey.

"Lovely." Danica said.

"Lubbly." Sammy echoed.

Dani grinned and bounced Sam on her hip. "What now, boys? We have hours and hours to go before you fall asleep since you both napped like pro's today. How are we going to expend all of this energy?"

Dean looked up at Sam, and at the same time they shouted "TOONS!"

* * *

OOPS almost forgot to add my customary offer to put YOUR wonderful wee!chester wanderings into my story!

The idea that you guys read and like my stuff makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**Dean**

_He was always the first person to wake up in the mornings. When he had been little and Sammy had been just a baby, he had sometimes startled himself awake at night just before baby Sammy began to cry. It was like a big brother spidey-sense there to tell him that his little brother needed him to get up._

_So like on a so many other nights, Dean woke up with a pounding heart in the darkness of his bedroom back in Kansas, and knew that his baby brother was going to start to cry. He dragged himelf out of bed and out of his bedroom, and started the short walk to the end of the hallway where Sammy's room was. He was tempted to drag his feet along the carpet and buzz himself on the door handle, but he was afraid he might still have some electricness left over and accidently buzz his brother, which would only really add to the crying. _

_So he walked carefully down the hall and opened Sam's door, shuffling up to the crib just in time to see his baby brother wake up and open his big baby mouth to squeal._

"_Shhhhhh, Sammy!" Dean said reaching in and touching his brother through the bars, "Don't cry, okay?"_

_Sam watched him as he scaled the side of the crib as he had done so many times before and came to lay down beside him. "Don't cry. Mom 'n Dad'r asleepin' 'n if you wake'm up they'reonna be reeeal cranky tomorrow."_

_He doubted that Sam understood anything he said- he just looked up at Dean with his big dumb baby eyes and stayed quiet._

_Dean knew it was mean to call his brother dumb, but he didn't mean it. Not in a bad way. He just meant that Sammy was dumb in the way all babies are dumb- not knowing anything about anything. He could tell that his litte brother was going to be a smarty-pants, anyway. He could just tell._

"_Smarty-pants." Dean whispered at his little brother, poking him softly on the nose._

"_Gaah!" Sammy responded, trying to catch Dean's finger in his gummy mouth._

"_Gahh." Dean smiled at the baby and settled in next to his brother to fall back asleep. The crib was almost too small for Dean now- he was four and he had to squish a little. But it was okay because he knew it helped Sammy sleep through the night, and that let his Mom and Dad sleep, too._

_Just before his eyes closed, he looked up at the doorway and saw the shapes of his parents leaning on the frame, watching him and Sam with sadish happy looks on their faces. _

_He wanted to tell them it was okay- they could go back to sleep now, but instead his eyes just fell closed and he felt himself falling into a deep dark-_

Dean twitched awake.

He looked around and realized with a sinking feeling that he wasn't in Kansas anymore. He was in the unfamiliar house of his dad's friend in South Dakota where there are crazy babysitters who like to let kids stay up until late-late watching cartoons and then sleep til the sun is waaay up.

He tore his watering eyes from the sunny window, and looked over the bed at Sammy, who was sleeping all peaceful like tucked into the pillows and blankets he always managed to steal during the night.

He sat for a second and just closed his eyes, thinking about his good dream and trying to make sure he kept it in his memory forever. Then he looked up at the Dreamcatcher he made and felt a sudden bubble of affection for his freaky babysitter. She might be weird and maybe a little crazy, but she definitely cared about him and Sammy more than any of their other babysitters had.

He stretched a little and thought about waking Sammy up, but decided against it. Sam tended to wake fussy, and Dean was sure that at two years old, his brother could make it down the stairs in one piece when he was finally ready for breakfast. So he shuffled his way to the kitchen, taking time to notice that his pajamas, which used to drag on the floor behind him, were now hitting his ankles.

"Morning, kiddo." Dani said to him when he came into the kitchen.

He squinted at the sunlight pouring in from the windows, and hoisted himself up into the chair opposite her. "Mmph."

"Sleep well?" She asked, getting up to stir a pot on the stove and pulling a bowl from one of Mr. Singer's cupboards.

"No nightmares." He said.

"Well that's good. I was worried all night. I wanted to come in and check on you, but I thought that might be creepy, you know? You wake up and there's some psycho next to your bed watching you sleep? Not cool. I made oatmeal."

Dani poured the oatmeal into the bowl and set it in front of Dean.

"Brown sugar's there on the table, I'd say add as much as you'd like, but you're six and I think that would be a bad idea. One spoonful and no more."

She turned around to do something with the oven and Dean quickly added two spoons of brown sugar to his oatmeal and stirred.

It wasn't like he wanted the extra sugar that bad, he just heard Dani say 'One spoonful and no more,' and just had to do it. It gave him a little zap of energy to break the rules. He could never do it with Dad, because Dad would never let him bend the rules even a little bit.

Dani turned around again and went back to chattering away, so Dean snuck another big scoop.

"Deeeeeeean,"

Dean swirled to find Sam standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking very offended for a two year old. And somehow it was just funny.

"Sorry Sammy. I didn't want to wake you up." Dean said as Sam made his way to the seat across from him. He sat down just as Dani set his bowl in front of him. With the bowl and the table, and Sammy being so little, all Dean could see of him was from his sleepy eyes up. And those eyes were glaring right at him.

He did his best not so smirk.

"Morning, Sammi-Sam. Today we have oatmeal." Dani said, giving him one scoop of brown sugar in his bowl.

Sam took his first bite as Dani started washing the dishes. He made a face like the oatmeal was poison, and was on the verge of pushing it off the table when Dean reached across and traded bowls with him and whispered, "Trust me."

Sam took a bite of Dean's breakfast and his sour look began to brighten. Instead of glaring purposefully at Dean, he was now focusing on eating his oatmeal.

Dean smiled to himself and immediately added another scoop of brown sugar to his own bowl. It didn't take them long to finish their breakfast, and for Dani to clean their dishes, and then they were left in the silence of the kitchen.

Dean and Sam sat quiety at the table and Dani hopped up on the counter, looking down at them. It seemed like, now there was nothing important that needed to get done, so what was there to do? Dean knew that feeling from watching Dad whenever he was cooped up with him and Sammy for more than a few days at a time; how restless he got and how he always had to make up excuses just to walk out of their motel room and breathe fresh air.

"Hide and go seek," Dani said suddenly, breaking though Dean's thoughts. "We should play hide and go seek. I haven't played hide and go seek since I was, what, a bitty little thing in Scotland, of all places. Let me tell you, you haven't played hide and go seek until you've played hide and go seek in a castle."

"Hide'nseek!" Sammy said, clapping his hands excitedly.

Suddenly Dean felt a knot in his stomach- he had to ask but he felt so stupid letting the words come out of his mouth.

"What's hide and seek?"

He hated that look that Dani got on her face, the one that was all made out of pity whenever he asked questions like this or mentioned something about his mom or dad before the Fire, so he tried not to look at her.

"It's a game we can play, it's more fun in a house where you don't know all the good hiding places already. One person is the seeker, everyone else is a hider, and the one seeker has to find all of the hiders. But once the seeker finds a hider, that hider can help the seeker if they want to. Does that make sense? That sounded like it didn't make sense. Would it make more sense if I used props?"

The game wound up being much easier than Dani had made it out to be, and Dean was pleased at how good he was at finding Dani and Sam's hiding places, and finding hiding places for himself. Sammy always hid somewhere small, because he thought Dean wouldn't know he could fit in there, and Dani always hid behind things, like curtains or clothes or under beds. Dean himself always found new places to hide, trying not to be as predictable as Sam and Dani. They'd been playing for hours already and Dean was sure he'd never get tired of the game.

This time it was Dani's turn to find them, and Dean had been hiding up in one of the kitchen cabinets for twenty minutes. He wasn't as bored as he expected; the energy he got from playing the game kept him from doing stupid stuff like tapping his fingers or wiggling around too much. He did have to open the cabinet a little every few minutes, though, to get some cold air.

"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, BOYS. OLLY OLLY OXEN FREE." Dani yelled from somewhere in the house. "THAT MEANS I GIVE UP. COME ON OUT."

Dean wasn't sure if this was a trick, so he stayed still for another minute.

"SERIOUSLY. YOU WIN, YOU CLEVER, CLEVER MASTERS OF DECEPTION. COME OUT SO WE CAN DO SOME BAKING. ALL OF THIS HUNTING'S GIVING ME THE RUMBLIES."

For the first time, Dean turned his attention to his stomach. It let loose a fierce growl. Apparently he was hungry too.

He climbed out of the cabinet just as Dani came into the kitchen.

"Nice spot."

"Thanks," he looked around. "Where's Sammy?"

"Dunno. He hasn't come out yet. If he was upstairs, or maybe in the basement, he might not have heard. Or maybe he thinks it's a trick. I'll check the basement, you go see if he's upstairs."

Dean immediately took to the stairs. He could feel the hunger in his tummy fading away into a big lumpy knot. It was the same feeling that he got when his babysitters made him go to preschool last year and he had to be away from Sammy all day. It felt like, if he wasn't there to protect Sammy, who would? What would happen to his little brother if he left him alone for even just a minute?

Dean combed the whole second floor, checking every room, in every space Sammy could possibly have hid and some places he couldn't, just to be sure.

"Sammy! Sammy the game is over! It's time for pudding! The game is over I promise! You won!"

No matter what he said or where he looked, he couldn't find his brother and the knot in his stomach tightened into a great big ball that was just rolling around his tummy making him sick.

He went back downstairs and found Danica looking a little bit crazy.

Without a word they both searched the middle floor, checking everything twice before coming to a halt at the back door.

"We should check outside. He might have hidden outside." Dani said, opening the door. She looked like someone who stuck their finger in an electrical socket, so Dean just nodded and followed her out into the junkyard.

"SAMMI-SAM!" Dani yelled, eyes jumping from car to car to car, "YOU WON, BUCKO. TIME TO CLAIM YOUR PRIZE!"

"GRAND PRIZE, SAMMY! PUDDING! CHOCOLATE PUDDING!" Dean yelled.

He started to feel like his chest was too small for all the air he needed in his body, like everything was shrinking and falling into a black hole where his tummy used to be. There were so many cars around them- _so many_. What if he got in one and locked himself in? It was hot out, he could just cook up like a Samburger in there, waiting for them to come find him.

"Pudding?" said a voice behind them, and Dean and Danica whirled around to find Sam standing before them, big hazel eyes invested heavily in the concept of "Pudding!"

Dean ran forward and nearly knocked his brother over with the force of his hug. "Yeah, Sammy, pudding." Dean said, sitting down on the ground and taking a second to bask in the comforting feeling of his brother under his protection again.

"Sammy, babe, where were you?" Dani asked.

Under normal circumstances Dean would have glared at Dani for calling Sam by that nickname, but he was just too busy hugging his little brother.

Sam's voice was muffled by Dean's embrace, so he let him go a little. "I was in the garage. Under the sink."

"The garage. _Amor enim omnia bona._ The goddamn _garage_. Why didn't I check there?" Dani said to herself, looking pained. "_Iuro, adip. Adepto a tenaci, stella. Adepto a damnant tenaci_."

Ignoring Danica and her weird new language, Dean grabbed his brother and walked him inside, Dani on their heels.

Dani and Dean were reduced to silent statues, watching Sam watch cartoons from the kitchen. Dean just couldn't get over the pounding relief in his while body, which was accompanied by a stinging behind his eyes that he couldn't explain.

"I'm so sorry, Dean. I know you were worried. So was I. I should have made firmer rules about staying in the house. I should have locked the doors or something. I'm so sorry."

Dani's voice was very quiet, partially Dean knew was to keep Sam from hearing, but the other part he thought might be because she looked like she was going to cry.

"I'm really sorry."

Dean nodded and looked from her to the floor, then to Sammy. "I have to keep him safe."

"And I have to keep both of you safe. That's my job. It won't happen again, Dean. Even if I have to keep you both on kiddie-leashes. JOKE!" she said, when he glared at her. "Joke."

Dean smiled and looked back at Sam.

"You know now he's going to want a great big bowl of pudding, right? He's not just gonna forget that we said pudding."

"You know, I was thinking about that, and I think maybe you guys deserve better than just some pudding. How do we feel about… pie?"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

**Dean**

"Pie?" Dean asked. "Pie…"

Something in his memory stirred and he had an image of a clean, bright kitchen and the smell of something that smelled better than anything he had ever smelled before.

"Don't tell me you've never had pie. I know for a fact that Mary Winchester owned the recipe for -and was very adept at cooking- _my_ secret Brown Sugar Pie. She also had my less awesome recipes for apple, cherry, and backberry pies. Never fond of blueberry pie. Much prefer blueberry tarts."

Dean thought about the idea of fruity pies and knew it just wouldn't stand with Sam. "Is there a chocolate pie? 'Cause now you got Sammy all in his chocolate zone and I don't think you're gonna get him to eat somethin' that's got good for you in it."

Dani sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Fine. You can have chocolate pie you petty, palate-less Neanderthal children. I'll go get the recipe."

Dani went into the pantry and came out with a big, thick book.

"This is a cookbook. It has a bunch of recipes for food, like pies. But there's a bunch of other stuff, too. See how yellow the pages are? That means the recipes are really old, which usually means they're really good, too. So we open up to the page on pies and it tells us how to make one," Dani turned a few of the pages until she found what she was looking for and pointed. "Can you read that?"

Dean squinted at the page, and read the words carefully, "Chocolate Cream Pie?"

"Yessir. You think that will be chocolaty enough for Sam?"

"I think so."

"Good. I'll get all the ingredients if you'll read them for me."

"Okay," Dean said, taking the book and sitting down in the chair facing Dani.

Dean read the ingredients off the page, and Dani looked for them in the cupboard. Dean thought that when Sammy heard the words 'chocolate' and 'cocoa' he would come in the kitchen. He was right, kind of. After Dean and Dani had started mixing ingredients together and the smell of chocolate reached his little brother's nose, Sammy wandered into the kitchen and watched the two of them while they stirred, getting his hand flicked every time he tried to taste the chocolatey mix.

Dani left the chocolate part of the pie to Dean, and focused on the crust, which looked like the hardest part anyway. While the crust was baking and the chocolate part was cooling, Dani attempted to start to clean up.

Sammy seemed captivated by the whole process, eyes flickering from Dean to Dani… until, that was, his two year old brain got bored. Then, as he was playing with a cup of flour, it overturned and there was suddenly a huge puff of white smoke.

"Sam, you okay?" Dani asked, wafting the powder out of the air with her hands.

The mess cleared to reveal a very sorrowful looking Sammy, face completely covered in fine white powder.

"Sorry."

Dean and Dani exchanged a look before bursting into laughter. Realizing that he wasn't in trouble, Sammy giggled along, and somehow a spilled cup of flour became an all out flour war.

Flour was tossed around so much that the entire kitchen was foggy with the stuff.

"HAWOONGA!" Dani yelled, jumping out of a white cloud to find Sam and Dean- Dean with his shirt on his head and Sam with floury war-paint on his face.

Sam and Dean yelled and threw down another flour bomb, racing around the table to escape Dani's flour-monster wrath. Dean grabbed Sammy's hand and pulled him under the table and they watched Dani's feet make several confused rounds before she peeked her head under at them.

**Danica**

"BOO!"

Sam and Dean yelled and tore out from under the table, great big smiles on their faces. They started to run again, but the oven made a pinging sort of noise and Dani squeaked in surprise. She'd forgotten there was something cooking, she'd been so distracted by her play with the boys.

She pulled the pie crust out of the oven and set it on the stove to cool, turning around to find the boys sitting calmly at the table, in the middle of a flour-covered kitchen.

"Oh don't you dare think you're gonna get away with not helping me clean this mess up. Go on, start sweeping the flour off the table. I'll go get the broom."

Dani swept while Dean sat Sam on the table and told him a story.

"Mom and me used to make pies when I was little," Dean said to Sam, and Dani could see Sam lean in closer to his brother, and Dani could tell that they didn't often talk about their mother. "They were always our secret though, just me and mom. And you, after you were born, you got to be part of the secret too. She made a pie that tasted soft and sugary, or one she made with berries in it and she used to let you taste just a little and you liked it even though it was good for you. We got to eat them just us, and if there was any left mom put it away and sometimes she would take it when she went into town and she'd give it to a scruffy looking guy. Sometimes we made them and gave them to the people next door or across the street- but we never made one for dad. I think she just wanted us to have something special together, her and me. And then her and me and you, because she loved us so much."

Dani bit her lip and bent down, mostly to sweep the giant pile of flour into the dustpan, but also to let loose a tear.

She had known Mary Winchester- and if there was anything that had been predictable about the Mary she had known, it was that she would make a wonderful mother one day.

"Boys, time for chocolate!" she said, shaking old memories from her head and putting on a smile for the rugrats in front of her.

Dani directed Sam to hold the pie crust still while she held the bowl and had Dean spoon the chocolate into the pastry.

After that it was as simple as a thin layer of whipped cream and some drizzly chocolate fudge.

"Done!" Dani said, standing back to look at her masterpiece. The moment of pride was short lived, as Sam and Dean both reached a finger in and scooped some of the whipped cream right into their mouths.

They giggled at the horrified look on Dani's face before she stole the pie right out from under them.

"Little barbarians!" she said, putting the pie on the top shelf of the fridge. "No pie for you until after dinner."

Dean made a face and crossed his arms, and Sam pretended to start to cry.

"AH AH AH! NO! You faker. Don't you try to fool me with your crocodile tears, Sam Winchester."

Sam made a pouty face, but stopped trying to cry.

"What do we want to eat for dinner, anyway?"

No sooner had Dani finished her sentence than she heard the front door open.

In the instant between when the door opened and Bobby took a step inside , Dani flashed from the kitchen to the living room, and was waiting in the foyer, pistol in hand.

"Oh. Sorry." She said, lowering her gun. "Wasn't expecting you back til later this week."

"We weren't plannin' on bein' back so soon, but we had some unexpected company." Bobby eyed Dani and her gun with a father's disapproval.

She uncocked the gun and put it in the back of her jeans and stuck her tongue out at him before Sam and Dean came running into the entryway to join her and Bobby, each attaching to one of her legs.

"How did you DO that?" Dean asked, eyes wide.

"Superman!" Sam squealed.

Dani smiled nervously, "Must have been some left-over flour monster powers."

"A what monster?" John asked, trailing behind Bobby with another man at his side.

"Oh keep your boxers on," Dani snorted.

John made a face and his boys, upon noticing their father, detached themselves from Danica's legs. Sam ran to his father and jumped up and down until John picked him up, but Dean walked to his father's side and stood silent and serene as a statue.

"Okay keep your panties on, then. It was a make-believe monster. No need to bust out the big guns. PS, who's the new guy?"

The man next to John stepped over the threshold, officially passing Dani's first test- a line of salt just under the doorframe. He was tall, broad shouldered and golden blonde with laughing brown eyes. The only wrinkles on his face were laugh lines, and there were curves etched into his cheeks from his smiles. Next to John they looked like the epitome of Comedy and Tragedy.

"Bill Harvelle," The man said with a friendly grin, extending a hand.

Dani shook it and beamed back. "Danica. Otherwise known as Dani, or just 'Hey You'."

Bobby rolled his eyes and wandered into the living room, and the other two men and one boy following him.

"I was just going to make the boys some dinner. I suppose that'd dinner for six now, though."

Immediately there were protests.

"I can't, I've got to get home,"

"I should get the boys down to a motel-"

"-old ball and chain-"

"Don't want to put you and Bobby out-"

Dani shushed them all with a curt swish of her hand. "Ah no no no. You're all staying the night. It's almost eight now, I'm not having you all drive home in the dark. Please, sit down. Have a nice meal, sleep easy for once. This house is a veritable fortress from baddies of the night, and we have two bedrooms and a helluva couch."

"And if you don't agree to sleep over, she'll drug you and you'll have to do it anyway." Bobby said with a chuckle.

John cracked a smile and reached down to ruffle Dean's hair. The six year old practically glowed.

"One time!" Dani complained, throwing her hands in the air and heading for the kitchen, "You drug some guys _one time_ and no one ever forgets it."

The men sat in the living room and talked a while, but after a while it became clear that they couldn't continue their conversation with the boys listening in, so Dean and Sam were sent to the Kitchen to help Danica prepare dinner.

Dani gently directed the boys in mashing potatoes and washing string beans while she cooked a great big ol' hunk of meat in the oven. Dinner was ready within the hour, and Dani sent the boys off to set plates and silverware out in the living room on all of the surfaces that could be spared.

As soon as the boys were out of the kitchen Bobby entered, nose twitching and eyebrows burrowing towards each other like angry, hairy little caterpillars.

He sniffed the air and cast a suspicious look at Danica.

"What're you cookin'?" he asked.

"Roast beef with mashed potatoes and green beans. Unless you want to know what Sam is eating, in which case mashed potatoes and weird baby-food meat and some mushy vegetables. Personally though, I find that much less appetizing and I don't really have the right size jars for a man of your… girth."

Bobby looked around the kitchen and his eyes landed on the open cookbook.

"Found it on the shelf with all the other ones- this one looked older, though, and older tends to mean yummier. Yummier recipes, I mean, not yummier books. I don't often eat books, and when I do I usually don't enjoy them."

Bobby was silent and simply walked over to lay his hand gently on the book. Since Bobby tended to do very few things gently, Dani gave him his moment of peace.

"It was hers, wasn't it?" Dani asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

Bobby nodded, his head low.

Dani placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged lightly- not hard enough to shake her hand away- and wiped his hand across his nose. "No, 's fine. She'd want someone to use it. She used it pretty much every day when she was still… here."

"Well we'll put it to good use, then, won't we?" Dani said with a reassuring smile. "Come on, you can help me serve dinner. I have a feeling Dean will want to carry the heaviest thing in front of his dad, but that hunk of meat weighs more than he does."

Bobby turned and, instead of picking up the big plate of food, gathered Danica into a bear hug.

"Oh. Okay. This is... lovely." Dani said, hands pinned to her sides. Bobby had often given her a heartfelt and heavy pat on the back, or a ruffle of her hair (which was always irritating) but never before a bear hug.

It was a few seconds before Bobby let go, straightened his shirt and wiped his nose again. "Heat of the moment, I guess."

"You great big hairy girl." Dani said, rolling her eyes. "Help me with the damn dinner."

Dani and Bobby brought the food into the living room dish by dish, and everyone served themselves. No one bothered asking about grace, and simply dug in. There was light conversation, nothing of import in front of the kids. Thankfully, though, after a heavy meal their energy dwindled and the boys were asleep, leaning on their father, within the hour.

"Tykes." Dani said affectionately. She looked up at John, "You boys can take my room, up on the second floor. I'll get… I am so sorry what was your name again?"

The man who'd accompanied John and Bobby bowed his head and Dani had a feeling that if he'd been wearing a hat, he'd have tipped it. A gentleman. She hadn't met one of those since the 1800's.

"William Harvelle, ma'am. Bill, if that's alright."

"Bill is fine with me. You mind sleeping on the couch down here? It's dead comfortable, just ask John."

Already halfway to the stairs, a boy in each arm, John made a non-committal grunt.

"See? Lovely couch." Dani said, fussing with the blankets and trying to make a suitable bed while Bobby carried the dishes to the sink. "Leave 'em, Bobby, I'll wash them tonight."

"You made dinner-"

"Yeah, and then you ate it and you're about to fall over from an overload of carbs. Go to bed."

Bobby made a face, and made a show of putting his hunting gear away very slowly before finally following Dani's orders and pouting like one of the boys all the way up the stairs.

"Sorry about all of the children in this house, Bill. I try to keep them all under control but," she shrugged.

Bill smiled, standing up and stretching into a behemoth of a man. He was taller than Bobby, and John. And blonde. And might be just the friendliest giant she had ever met. "Mind if I make a call, Miss Danica? Just one before I tuck in."

"Feel free." Dani said, gesturing towards the kitchen. "Phone's over by the table."

After a few moments of dialing and what Dani assumed was ringing, she heard Bill's voice float from the kitchen to the living room, where she was trying so hard to tuck blankets and puff pillows into just the proper configuration.

"Guess who?" Bill said into the phone, and there was a smile on his face so big Dani could hear it from the other room. "Hey baby. Hunt was a cakewalk; I met some good men up here and got the job done right quick, so I'll be back to you and Jo tomorrow. Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Yeah I know. I know. I love you too. I'll see you both tomorrow. Give my baby girl a kiss goodnight for me. And both of you be safe."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**Danica**

While everyone else slept soundly through the night, Dani remained awake. She never needed much sleep, and when she did feel the need to rest she preferred to nap during the daytime in a patch of sunshine. Like a cat.

So Dani stayed awake, washing dishes, storing leftovers, reading, "taste-testing" the pie, and generally laying about being bored. She pacified herself by going though Bill Harvelle's wallet He had exactly one ID, with his own name printed clearly across the top. William Anthony Harvelle. He also had several pictures in his wallet of a beautiful, happy looking brown eyed woman and a bubbly blonde baby who Dani assumed was the "Jo" Bill had mentioned on the phone. Cute face.

She put everything back the way it had been in Bill's hunting pack and went back to wandering the house aimlessly.

Sometime after dawn Dani fell asleep in a sunny spot at the kitchen table until she was woken by a soft hand on her shoulder. Dani looked groggily up at her big blonde alarm clock.

"You fell asleep at the table. You must have been exhausted." Bill said kindly, reaching down to help her up.

Dani waved his hand away and got up with a wince at the pain in her back. "Naah. Just bored. Did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby." Bill grinned.

"Good, good. Glad to hear it. Sit, I'll make you coffee."

"Oh, no coffee for me, thank you," Bill said, taking a seat. "Mornings are pretty easy for me. Especially one's where I don't wake up to the sound of crying."

Dani started a pot anyway, knowing John and Bobby would be needing two cups each to regain their humanity if they woke any time before noon. "A morning bird. Welcome to the club. It's a very small club, very exclusive, we have a President." She pointed to herself. "And the VP and Treasurer." She pointed upstairs, indicating the boys' room.

"Yeah, I'm not looking forward to those years with my Jo. She's still in that baby stage of sleep-cry-eat-sleep. That's tough enough."

Dani started to fix herself and Bill two glasses of orange juice. "Jo's a _girl_. For a whole second during your call last night I thought you had a boy and I was so excited to set up a play date for the three little guys, but you have a girl. Poor man. Daughters will turn a father's hair gray faster than anything else known to man, that there's a science _fact_."

Bill laughed, "She'll be a handful, if she's anything like her mother. A real firecracker, Ellen was. I met her when we were still young, and stupid. I came from a Hunting family, she didn't. We'd only been going steady a month before she tracked me down during a hunt and damn well insisted that I explain everything. And of course once I explained she made me train her. The woman was a natural born Hunter as much as she's a natural mother."

"That's sweet," Dani said, sitting across from Bill and sliding his glass of OJ down to him. "So she's a stay at home mom now?"

"Not exactly. When we knew that Jo was coming along we figured we needed a place to settle down. But you know Hunters, we don't ever have much money to our names so all we could afford was some old run down bar in the middle of nowhere with a couple of back rooms barely fit for living."

"I always wanted to be raised in a bar." Dani said wistfully.

Bill gave her a look and she continued, "That way then I do the rude things I tend to do sometimes, someone might ask 'Were you raised in a barn?' and I would get to say 'No, good sir. I was raised in a _bar_.'"

It took a second, but Bill let out a guffaw and set down his glass, shaking his head. "You're a very strange girl, Miss Danica."

"Thank you. And you've got to stop calling me 'Miss Danica'. It makes me feel like I should be fanning myself and drinking pink lemonade on the porch. Now, don't let me interrupt your story. You bought a bar…?"

Bill nodded, " We bought the bar, we fixed it up, and we opened her up for business. Of course you don't get much business in the middle of nowhere, so we started inviting some of our hunting buddies down for drinks and like conversation, and they invited their buddies, and now its pretty much a Hunters-only bar. And I get to go out and Hunt, and keep the world a little bit safer for my girls, knowing they're well protected by at least a dozen armed men."

"Sounds like a damn good setup, Bill."

Dani had been so distracted by Bill's story that she'd barely noticed John had come down the stairs. He was now leaning on the doorway, groggy as ever, and avoiding eye contact with Dani for dear life.

She rolled her eyes, though she knew he couldn't see it, and nodded her head toward the kitchen counter. "Coffee's in the pot, John. Now, Bill, has Ellen given up on Hunting now that she's a momma?"

"For now she has to. Can't just toss a kid into a baby bjorn and go in after a werewolf. I mean, you could but it would be a real bad idea. We haven't talked about the long term, but I know she hates being left behind, and she's the best Hunting partner I've ever had, no offense John," John barely looked up from his coffee to nod in understanding, "But Jo will be raised in the life, that's for sure."

"'S the best possible way." John mumbled over his coffee.

Dani bit her tongue.

And for good reason, since a moment later Dean came shuffling into the kitchen followed by his little brother.

"Morning boys!" Bill said cheerily.

"Morning." Dean said. He looked up from rubbing his eyes and saw his father standing against the counter and immediately his back went rigid.

Dani hated this, the way Dean acted around his father. Like a soldier in front of his commanding officer. It made her want to slap John clear across the mouth and force the boys to catch butterflies and play tag and eat sweets until their itty bitty bodies just burst from childish delight.

But instead, she settled for this.

"Hey, Kiddos," she said, getting up and heading to the fridge. "Ready for breakfast?"

"Pudding!" Sam exclaimed, though his excitement was quickly followed by a wide, tooth-and-gum bearing yawn.

"Sam, this obsession with pudding is starting to freak me out a little bit. But kind of, yeah. Kind of pudding." Dani pulled the sufficiently cooled pie from the fridge and set it on the table. "I believe that after all of you hard work you have earned the privilege of pie for breakfast."

"Pie?" Dean said, his posture going from stiff and formal to loose and ready to run headfirst into the dessert before him.

"I don't think pie for breakfast-" John started,

"And I think you don't get t have a say in what they have for breakfast because you haven't finished even your first cup of coffee yet and therefore you are not human and as such not allowed to make parental decisions." Dani said, going to stand next to John at the counter.

Sam seemed more than happy to take part in the pie eating, and scrambled up onto a chair beside Bill. Dean, however, was now looking at the pie with a certain reluctance.

"If Dad say's no…"

"And Dani says yes, then the two opinions cancel each other out and that means you get to decide if you want pie. No Dad. No Dani. Just Dean."

He looked worriedly from Dani to John and back again, utterly torn.

Dani reached behind her slowly and began to dig her nail into the hand John was using the lean on the counter. John's face was one of resigned stoicism, but Dani could just see the flutter of pain behind his eyes. She dug harder and suddenly,

"Dean, if you want to have pie for breakfast, of course you can-"

"See?" Dani said sweetly, removing herself from John's side and grabbing a few forks from the cutlery drawer, "Dad says it's okay. That's two okays. That means you should have some pie, if you still want pie."

Dean beamed up at Dani and scrambled for the seat next to Sam.

Dani handed them both forks, one to Bill and even attempted to give one to John.

"I don't like pie." He said gruffly.

"You don't… like… pie." Dani said in disbelief.

"Man's a freak of nature," Bill said, a whip cream mustache forming on his upper lip. "This pie is fantastic!"

Dani smiled. "Thanks Bill."

She took a glance at the kids and burst into giggles. Both Sam and Dean were too busy eating their pie to realize that they were missing their mouths almost as often as they were stuffing pie in. Sam's face was practically covered in chocolate.

"Pie!" Sam said excitedly, poking at his quarter of the pie with his finger.

"Pie." Dani confirmed, hiding a smile behind her hand.

While Dani watched the boys eat, John and Bill started a very subtle conversation about the pros and cons of table salt versus rock salt. It was almost impressive how capable they were at dodging words like "demon" and "ghost" and "big scary monsters that want to eat itty bitty kiddies".

"Is that _pie_?" Bobby asked, shuffling into the room like a zombie.

"Coffee first." Dani said, handing him an empty mug. "Then pie. Sir Grumpus."

**Bobby**

Bobby grunted and maneuvered past Dani and John to get at the coffee maker. He wasn't much for mornings, but the idea of pie and coffee sounded like a good start to any day, so he filled his cup and turned towards the table and was hit with a brick wall.

This was the fullest his kitchen had ever been.

He and Karen had had the occasional passing family member (always from her side) or a dinner with the neighbors- but their kitchen had never been this kind of full.

Bill and John talking across the room about salts, the two kids scarfing down their non-breakfast breakfast, and Dani watching them all with that mothery look she seemed to have developed in his time away. How was it possible that just five people could make the room so different than it had been all these years. Was this what he'd been missing out on? Was this a real family?

"Bobby, please, straighten these guys out here. They're insisting that rock salt could not be used in a, uh, projectile fashion." Dani said, rolling her eyes at the labor of choosing her words so carefully.

"'S never been done before." Bobby said after taking a sip of bitter caffine. "Don't think it is possible."

"And this is why I hate old men. Yes, I said old men. All crochety and stuck in your ways like a bunch of cranky old men. OLD. MEN."

Bobby rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his coffee. Dani always seemed less crazy and more manageable after two or so cups of coffee.

Bill, apparently done competing with a two and six year old for pie, stood up and stretched. "Well, boys, and Miss, it's been lovely meeting all of you but I really should get home to my wife and my girl. And Dani, I do think I'll take you up on that offer for a playdate. I certainly think that once Jo gets up closer to Sam's age she could use a couple of good influences like the Winchester boys."

"Jo's a girl? Ew." Dean mumbled into his pie.

Dani heard him though because she squeaked out "I ship it!" before covering her hand with her mouth. "Sorry. Hiccup."

John downed his second cup of coffee and pushed off from the counter, patting each of his boys on the back. "If you two can go run and get dressed, and get your things we can be on our way, too."

Dean seemed to deflate, and Bobby saw him glance at Danica before getting up from the table and pulling on his brother's hand. "C'mon, Sammy. Lets go get dressed."

"Where are we going?" Sam said as they walked out of the kitchen.

Bobby couldn't hear Dean's answer, but he knew Dani could from the twitch of a frown at the corner of her mouth.

She turned to Bobby with a questioning look. He knew what she wanted to know, and he nodded.

"You know, John, you're welcome to stay here until you find another job. It's a helluva crazy world out there and it's safe here."

John shook his head. "It gets you lazy. Complacent, staying in one place for too long. No offense to either of you," he said, nodding to Bill and Bobby. "I just like to keep on my toes."

"Well," Bobby said, noting the sad expression on Dani's face, "You know you and the boys are always welcome here. And so are you, Bill."

"Thank you, Bobby." Bill said.

John simply nodded.

It didn't take long for the boys to dress and gather their things, and Bobby and Dani found themselves walking their guests from the kitchen to the porch.

Sam hugged Dani for a long time, sniffling a little bit and asking repeatedly "See you soon?"

Dean was more reserved, seeing the look that John had given Sam's farewell. He held out a hand for Dani to shake, which she did with a sad smile. "See you around, kid."

"Thanks, Dani."

She winked at him and looked up at John.

"Drive safe now."

He nodded and turned to Bobby. "It's been great hunting with you, Bobby. I'll see you again soon. Keep sharp."

"You too, kid." He was only older than John by a few years, but it always got a smirk out of John when Bobby called him kid.

The men finished out their goodbyes, Bill and John made their way to their cars and by the time their rear bumpers were out of sight there were tears in Dani's eyes.

Bobby had never been much help for crying women. It seemed to make him freeze up and generally bumble about.

Dani knew this, though, so she simplified herself. "Just sad to see them go, you know? They're some good kids. And that Bill- he seemed so nice."

"We'll see 'em again."

"I hope so."

A/N: I feel like a dick for being so inconsistent on updates. I'm in college, trying to get a job, doing theatre. I grab spare minutes where I can. Sorry for being so all over the place.

Also A/N: I forgot the last few posts to ask you guys my regular question. What do YOU want to see from the WeeChesters? And rest assured, I read all replies and put them all into a bank. We've got a few years worth of WeeChester fun to be had so yours might not show up in this chapter or that, but it will be here. Trust me. I'm a Doctor.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

**Danica**

It was months before Dani and Bobby heard from John again. It was October and the air was just coming to the cool crisp cusp of winter. The mornings were still nibbling cold, but the days in the sunshine were still warm enough to be outside without a coat.

Dani was lying along the porch banister in the sun, sound asleep for the first time in weeks, when the phone rang.

Sleepily, Dani turned an ear in the direction of the kitchen to listen as Bobby picked up the phone. It was a long shot that it would be news of the Winchesters, but Dani upheld hope. Concern for the welfare of those boys had kept her awake day after day for longer than she'd bothered to count, and she couldn't help but imagine what terrible nightmares they must be facing alone on the road with John.

"Singer." Bobby said crankily. He had been on edge, too. Mostly because seeing Danica unsettled was a rather unsettling sight in itself. He was used to her chippering about the place, she knew, and recently she'd barely been able to keep up with their workouts.

There was a long pause and a sigh from Bobby. "It's good to hear from you, John."

Dani flailed wildly in surprise, and promptly lost her balance and went tumbling from the porch banister to the hard earth below.

"I'm glad you finally decided to call. Dani's been worrying herself sick." Dani scrambled to stand up and went flying up the porch steps and into the house. "Not about _you_, idjit. About the kids."

She reached Bobby's side and looked forcefully at him. He gave her his Don't-Give-A-Damn face and turned away from her. As if that would make her go away.

She stuck to his side, trying but failing to hear both sides of the conversation on the phone.

"Yeah, yeah, I know where it is. What in God's name is a Hellmouth?"

"Just another name for Hell's Gate." Dani supplied quickly, "An entrance or exit from Hell. How are the boys?"

He waved her question away and twisted to try and get away from her. She followed him.

"Well I don't think- John you can't just- Well you certainly can't take those boys. Look, Dani's been itchin' to see 'em and there's a good school a mile to two from here and it starts in a week. If you really want to follow this lead- no, I don't think six is old enough to take care of himself. You leave your kids here with Dani or you can count me out of your crazy plans. And I'll be damned if anyone else'll go on this suicide mission with you."

There was a long pause, and Dani grabbed Bobby's arm nervously. He turned towards her to give her another look, but seemed to think better of it when he saw the worry on her face.

A voice mumbled something on the other end of the line and Dani unconsciously tightened her grip. Bobby winced.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. Sunday. See you then."

"SUNDAY!" Dani shrieked when Bobby hung up the phone. "Sunday! WOOT!"

"Alright, alright," Bobby said with a pained expression, shuffling away from Dani and toward the coffee pot. "You've got your kids and I've got a hunt, everyone wins. Quiet down."

"Sorry," Dani said, seating herself at her usual spot at the kitchen table. "I wish you didn't have to go with John, though. You'd love the boys, I know you would. And they could use a good role model. And don't you say that they have John, because we both know he's never there for them."

"Hmph." Bobby poured himself a cup of black coffee and sat across from Dani. "I have to go with John. He thinks he's got a real lead on the thing that killed his wife and he can't go after it himself."

"What is it, a dragon?" Dani joked. She felt chills along her spine in spite of her attempt to be aloof.

"He thinks it might be a demon. Like the thing that killed Karen."

They had talked at length about demonic possession, and what had happened to Bobby's wife in those weeks she was a host. It had taken Dani months to convince Bobby that it was the demon that killed his wife, not anything he had done. But still, Dani shifted uncomfortably in her seat, avoiding his eyes now.

"What?" He asked, giving her his suspicious once over.

"What?" she responded innocently.

"You got that look on your face like you're not sayin' what you're thinkin'. Is this about your fear of demons? Because we won't be anywhere near here-"

Dani shook her head. "It's not that, I just worry. Demons are squirrely, weasley bastards with a penchant for grudges. They're practically immortal. They have nothing better to do. I have faith in you that the two of you could catch this thing, but Bobby," she reached across the table and laid her hand over his, "The worst possible thing you can do is poke this bear. Hunt it, learn about it, gather intel, but don't engage with it. Don't follow it at close range, don't talk to it, don't get near it. For your sake, for the boys, and for mine. I can't… I can't properly explain to you how important it is that that demon does not know where to find John and his boys, or find me. If the demons know where I am, Bobby, they will come for me. And if they do, they will destroy any and everyone around me. Then and only then will they drag my ass down to Hell."

Bobby just stared at her for a while, absorbing the information.

"What are you?" He asked, finally.

Dani leaned back in her chair and gave Bobby a smirk.

"Nunya."

* * *

**Dean**

Dean could see his dad from the car, watched him hang up the phone and lean hard against the wall of the phone booth. He looked tireder and tireder every day lately- and Dean was getting tireder too. Dad could be gone for days and it would just be him and Sammy, breakfast for every meal and nothing but TV all day. Dean knew there were other kids that thought it was the best thing ever to watch TV all day and not have to do anything else, but he really missed having everything the way it was before Mom died.

Dad started walking back to the car and Dean shrank in his seat so he could pretend to be asleep. He didn't sleep very much since Mom died, and he heard Dad talking about it to one of his friends one time and he sounded really worried so Dean had pretended to sleep in the car a lot. And then when Dani made him and Sam the dreamcatchers he started sleeping again but he still pretended to sleep in the car anyway. He snuck a hand into his backpack and touched one of the feathers with the tip of his finger.

His dad opened the car door and sat down, careful to close the door quietly so he wouldn't wake his sleeping son.

"Dean," he whispered, touching Dean's knee, "Dean."

Dean pretended to wake up and looked up at his father.

"I'm going to take you and your brother back up to Sioux Falls, do you remember where that is? The old house in the junkyard?"

"With Dani?" Dean asked.

"Yes, with the babysitter Danica." He looked mad. He always looked mad when Dean brought up Dani so he stopped talking about her weeks ago. "I'm going to go out for a few days. With that man you met, Bobby. We're going on a hunting trip. It's a long one this time, and I want you and your brother to stay somewhere safe. And I want you to go to school."

Dean nodded. The people they stayed with last year made him go to preschool on some days. It was a good and bad experience- Dean always hated leaving Sammy alone with strangers, but he liked having the chance to play with other kids.

"Should I wake Sammy up?" Dean asked, looking back at his baby brother.

"No, let him sleep. He likes sleeping in the car on the long rides."

Dean nodded again. He put on his seat belt while his dad started the car and took another long look out of the window. They'd stayed in this hotel for almost a whole week, and it was just starting to feel like home. He knew better than to say so to Dad, because he would get that sad look on his face. So Dean stayed quiet as they pulled out of the parking lot and began their long journey down the open road, Dad turning the volume on the radio up just so the Soft Rock station could be heard over the hum of the engine.

Dean took another look back at his brother and, satisfied that he was still sound asleep, relaxed into his seat to watch the flurry of red, yellow, and orange leaves fly past the window.

* * *

**John**

It was different when Mary was alive. There was never a dull moment on road trips- if she wasn't playing "I Spy" with Dean, she was letting him draw with Magic Markers on her 3rd trimester baby bump.

_Apparently Dean had x-ray vision and could draw his sibling with complete accuracy - which, as it turned out, was a blue and purple troll with very hairy eyebrows. _

_At the next rest stop Mary got out to stretch her legs while John pumped the gas. Dean was sound asleep in the backseat, so it took her a moment to get out of the car by herself. She walked around the car and showed John the drawing, and he laughed. _

"_That must be the mailman's." he told her._

"_Oh, you just don't want to admit he has your jawline." She said, smoothing her shirt down._

"_He," John rolled his eyes and smiled at his wife. "You wanted a girl, remember?'Keep it balanced' you said."_

_Mary pouted in that way she did and John tried not to look at her. That pout was like his kryptonite. Made him do crazy things. It was those big, playful blue eyes and that mischievous way her lips turned up at the corners whether she was trying to look sad or angry. Hers was an honest face, always an honest face._

_"The girl, the one from town, she said it was a boy."_

_John frowned at the memory of the girl. It wasn't the sort of thing he wanted to remember happening. A seventeen year old girl with dark skin and hair in braids that walks up to your wife and predicts the sex of her unborn child while making cryptic references to her past is not a girl you want to think about, not if you want to keep your sanity. _

_"What does a girl her age know about babies? She probably thinks the stork put that thing in there."_

_"There's no way this baby is half stork, John. He kicks like a mule."_

_John had to agree with her there. The kid had kick. But he didn't want to believe that the girl who'd stopped them on the street just days ago had said anything close to the truth from start to finish._

"_Either way, I'd rather our baby, boy or girl, not have so many warts."_

_Mary made a face and nodded. She planted a kiss on his cheek before heading for the passenger seat._

_By the time she was in the car, John was finished filling the tank and returned to the wheel with a snack from the gas station._

"_Twinkies!" Mary squealed. She then flinched and checked the backseat, but Dean was tuckered out. She grinned at John and unwrapped the spongy yellow cakes while he started the engine. "You know I've been craving these for days. I didn't say anything. How did you know?"_

"_A man knows these things." John said simply, eyes fixated on the road as he pulled out of the gas station. Mary was too good at catching him in a lie, and he didn't want to admit she'd used the word "twinkie" in place of "twinkle" for the past week._

_He looked over at her and couldn't hold back a smile in reaction to her smile. It was like an impulse- Mary happy made him happy. He shook his head._

"_What?" Mary asked, still smiling but confused._

"_I just love you. That's all."_

"_Oh," Mary said. She ran her fingers through his hair. "Well I like you a lot, too."_

_John shook his head and the corners of his mouth twitched. _

_Suddenly Mary leaned forward and turned the radio on._

"_I hate the quiet," she said, turning the volume lower and scanning the stations. "That's what I'm talking about. Beatles."_

_She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, humming along to the tune of Let it Be._

_It only took a second before her hand slipped into his. Her hands were always warm to John, warm and relaxed. He ran a thumb over her finger and kept his eyes on the road head, not needing to see her face to know her smile. _

Things after that were different. They went on their little vacation, came back, Sam was born and everything changed. John couldn't stop asking about the rest of the little girl's predictions, and Mary wouldn't talk about it. Things got strained, strained led to tense, and tense led to nightly shouting matches.

John looked over at his firstborn who had fallen asleep only a few minutes ago.

He hated leaving them, hated dropping them off places while he went off on his damned mission. The longer he kept at it, the less justified he felt. In the beginning he had thought, at least he was making a better world for his boys, ridding the darkness of monsters. But wave after wave of newer, badder things had made him realize there was no end. He would be doing this when his hair was beyond gray- if he lived that long. And there was Dean, who already knew how to hold and shoot a gun. He'd be probably die in this life, too.

It wasn't what he would have wanted for his sons. Not what Mary would have wanted either, he was sure. They had talked about how to manage two boys, to be able to send them both to college if that was what they wanted. Never about teaching them how to kill and how to be ready when someone they loved was killed. You don't plan for that kind of thing. Not then, they didn't. Now was a different matter. John would be damned if his boys would ever lack the skills they needed to protect themselves, or the ones they loved.

Dean twitched in his sleep, and brought his legs up to tuck between him and the door, burying his head in his arms.

John only saw how young his son really was when he was sleeping. Dean spent so much time trying to fix things- he sometimes suspected that Dean thought that Mary's death was his fault. There was a guilt in his eyes that mirrored his own but shouldn't. Not at six years old.

It was hours more of driving alone with his thoughts before the road grew dark and he found a hotel they could stay in for cheap. He left the boys in the car while he talked to the owner, then brought the car around to their room. He brought Sammy in first, carrying the still sleeping two year old with all the gentleness he could muster. He thought about waking Dean and having him walk to the car, but when he saw his son asleep he couldn't bring himself to wake him.

He laid his oldest son next to his brother , and covered them both with the thin blanket provided by the motel. Sam wiggled restlessly, and for a moment John worried he would wake, but before he could react Dean planted a calming hand… right over his brother's face.

John almost laughed, but it seemed to calm Sam down and they both stayed asleep.

John stood up from the bed, and more than anything he wanted to reach over and rustle his son's hair and tell him that everything would be okay. That one day things would be back to normal, that he would never have to worry about monsters or death or protecting his little brother from the horrors that waited in the dark.

But when he'd started this mission to find Mary's killer, he promised Dean that he would never lie to him.

John walked to the dresser and took the keys. He'd be back from the bar with enough time to get a few hours of sleep before they headed out in the morning.

.

**A/N: **I am such a dick for taking this long to update. So sorry. I had writers block, I didn't know what I wanted, but I have a lot of material now and I want to help you feel feels and I still love getting suggestions so keep doing that and YES the requested Halloween chapter is forthcoming.

PS Who knew Mumford and Sons was such great Supernatural Fanfic music, amirite?


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

**Dean**

Sammy woke up at around nine o'clock- that's what the clock on the bedside table said, anyway. Dean wasn't very good at telling time, but the little hand was close to the number nine and that seemed close enough. It looked plenty dark outside through the thin curtains, so it was still nighttime- so why was he awake

Sammy was tugging on his arm gently, whispering "Dean," every couple of seconds, that was why.

It wasn't a whine. Not yet. If he pretended to be asleep any longer though, Sammy would quickly go from a quiet beg, to a whine, and then to a cry. So Dean got up.

"Hey, Sammy,"

"Hey Dean."

"Can't sleep?" He asked, rubbing his eyes. He'd fallen asleep in the car, but they were both on the big bed of a motel room. Usually Dad woke him up to help carry stuff into the motel; he hadn't woke up in a different place than he'd fallen asleep since Mom died. It was a funny feeling, and even though it used to seem so normal now it kind of made him feel weird.

"Mm-mm," Sam shook his head in response to Dean's question, big grey eyes pleading up at him for attention.

"Okay." Dean got up and stretched. He turned on the lamp by the bed, looked at the clock, then walked over and took his backpack from the place Dad had left it by the door. "Are you hungry?"

Sammy's mouth twitched and he shrugged.

In Sam-land, that meant yes. Ever since Sam had started to notice how little Dad and Dean ate, he didn't ask for food. It wasn't like they didn't eat at all- they had food every day, but it was food from gas stations or diners, when they could pay for it. And some times when they couldn't. In a way it made Dean mad, because if anyone should get to eat it was Sammy. He was so little and Dean was always worried that he would be too small to ride big kid rides at fairs and stuff forever. He asked Dad about it once, and he just said it was Sam being in the "terrible two's" but Dean didn't think so. Sam wasn't the kind to be terrible anything.

He reached into the backpack and pulled out two cup-cakes, a big bag of chips, and two cans of soda that Dad had put in there earlier. He brought the backpack over and sat on the bed, cross legged across from his brother, and laid out the meal. Sammy reached for one of the cup-cakes and Dean brushed his hand away.

"Chips first." He said.

Sam pouted, but waited for Dean to open the bag and pulled out a handful of chips.

"Be careful, okay? " Dean said, watching his little brother with a weary eye. Dad warned him once that sometimes little kids choke on food that bigger kids don't, and Dean was always worried that he would feed Sammy the wrong thing.

They ate without talking for a while. Dean went to the sink in the bathroom and put water in Sam's sippy cup. He poured a little bit of his soda in, too, and brought it back to Sam.

"Nightmares?" Dean asked when Sam was done drinking.

Sam shook his head and took the cup-cake.

"Good."

Dean reached into the backpack and pulled out his and Sam's dreamcatchers. He knew Dad didn't like Dani, but he'd let them keep the dreamcatchers anyway, which was good for Dean because he hadn't had nightmares at all since they made them.

He ran his fingers over the feathers, and then put the dreamcatchers away to look for something Sam could play with. This motel didn't look like it had a TV, so he was going to have to find something else to keep Sammy busy while their dad was out. The bag was mostly empty, though, only some trash and one action figure that had been Dean's but was Sammy's now. He took it out and held it up for his brother to see.

Sammy made a face and shook his head.

"Okay."

Dean got up and started searching the drawers in the room. The bedside table on what would be Dad's side (he always slept on the side closest to the door) had a deck of cards in it.

Sammy was too young to play things like go fish or anything, so instead Dean made houses out of the cards and let his little brother go Godzilla on them. He always thought it was funny that Sammy never went full destroyer on the little houses. He always knocked them over with a finger, or blew them down. When Dean got to smash a house of cards, he liked to body slam it. Cards would go flying everywhere and get all bent and it was a big mess, but then he thought it was just more _fun_ that way.

Sammy tried to help Dean all that he could in the building part, telling Dean how tall the buildings should be and how many and how much space between them and Dean decided that Sam should have been the older brother, because he wanted to get to make the card houses and Dean just wanted to smash them. He let Sammy try to make a few, but it seemed to just make Sam sad that his hands couldn't make the towers he saw in his head, so Dean stuck with trying to make Sammy's ideas himself.

They were in the middle of building one giant tower of cards when they heard keys in the door. For Dean, it was instinct to jump up and face the door while putting his whole body in front of Sam, just in case there was something bad on the other side of the door.

When it opened, though, it was just their dad.

"Daddy!" Sammy squealed, and tottered over to hug their dad's leg.

"Hey, Sammy."

Dad seemed to be too tired to even really stand up, so Dean took his place at his father's side and let him lean on his shoulder. The three of them made some kind of lopsided monster-walk to the bed in the middle of the room and Dad fell onto it heavily. He sighed and rustled Dean's hair. "Thanks, Deano."

Dean smiled up at his him, but his father was already lying on his back, falling into a deep sleep.

"C'mon, Sam," Dean said, leading his little brother back to where they had been sitting just before. The breeze from the opening of the door must have knocked their tower down, because now where it had stood so big and tall, there was just a flat pile of cards. "Let's make it again."

And so they started over, building one layer after another of their house of cards.

The next morning when they woke up, Dean found Sammy lying on the floor next to him, curled up like a cat. They had both been too sleepy to make their way up to the bed, and had just fallen asleep next to their pile of cards. Sam was still asleep, but Dean woke up with the sound of the bathroom door closing. That meant that Dad was up, and Dad being up meant it was time for Dean to get up.

It wasn't something that Dad wanted, he never got Dean up with him early in the morning, but after a while Dean developed a habit and habits made him happy- he liked knowing what was coming next. Dad would shower and while he did that Dean would pack up all of their things, and sometimes take stuff from a mini fridge if the motel had one. He also got to wake Sammy up so that as soon as Dad came out of the bathroom they would be ready to get in the car and go. Sometimes Dad even ruffled the hair on Dean's head and thanked him for being so grown up.

This wasn't one of those mornings.

Dean could tell as soon as his dad came out of the bathroom that he wasn't going to get any pats on the head today; Dad was ruffle-haired himself and his eyes looked droopy. He looked like that sometimes when he was really sad, and sometimes when he said he had bad dreams. Dean wished that he could make him a dreamcatcher, but he knew that Dad would never use it, and anyway Dean had a feeling that his dad's flinchy, droopy condition was probably more from staying out all night than because of bad dreams.

"Ready?" he asked, looking at Sam and Dean through still sleepy eyes.

Dean didn't reply, but picked up his backpack and followed his dad out the door to the car. He climbed in the back seat with his brother and stared out the window, ready for one more day out of the hundreds spent living on the road.

A/N : Yes I have been long gone. Yes I am an asshat for doing so. Yes, over Winter Break I plan to get back on track. Sorry, gaiz.

And don't forget to tell me what you want to see from WeeChester fun times- I've got Halloween and First Day of School shizzles coming your way, tell me what else you want! Less than three (Fanfiction won't let me make the little heart. Ees le dissapointing.)


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